So my doctor calls me about my blood tests. I've already spoken to another nurse and another doctor about what's going on, so I understand everything. He says, "Do you know what it means that your numbers came back as they did?" Obviously, this shows that no one talks to each other. "Yes, I understand what it means. It's all been explained." I'm hoping for some sort of nice comment back, but no. I get this instead: "Oh, cool. Well, I can leave early today then. Thanks." Then he hangs up. I really hate doctors.
Well, without further ado: STOP LOOKING AT ME, SWAN!
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Satellite Radio:
I have a subscription to XM Radio, and I really like it. Most stations have no commercials and it's not very often that I hear a song repeated. That's great, but there are some changes afoot that I don't like. For example:
1. Sirius Radio (XM's competition) is starting an all-Bruce Springsteen station called E-Street. That's right, all Boss, all the time. Hell, if you just sprinkle in the occasional Skynyrd song, we already have that hear in the Twin Cities. We call it KQRS.
2. Pricing. When I joined it was only ten bucks a month to get everything. Now, they are starting to go the way of TV. They are creating tiers where the more you spend, the more stations you get. I was hoping that with the popularity of the Ipod, they wouldn't do this. Podcasts are growing in numbers.
3. Ipods. When will satellite and Ipod just come together. Seriously. You can either listen to the stations on the satellite, or switch over and hit your playlist. It's the best of both worlds. Make it happen, Apple.
4. Regular radio is dying. Seriously. Why listen to commercial after commercial when you can just put on a station that's all music all the time? Several local Disc Jockeys have made comments about the fact that very soon down the line, everyone will just move to satellite radio in order to get their music. Or, heaven forbid, not listen to the radio at all thanks to online music.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe alot of you out there love regular radio, but imagine being able to listen to talk radio without interruptions except for news or station identification. Wouldn't that be great. That leads me to my next topic.
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Jack FM...Is a Bit of a Fraud:
Yes, It's great that they don't take requests. That means we don't get "Sweet Home Alabama" every five minutes (again, KQRS). Still, what no one really talks about with the station is this: They don't play as much music as other stations.
When you can't sleep, you keep busy. I do housework, paint, whatever. When the power went down here, and I couldn't sleep, I strapped on a flashlight and headphones and painted in the dark. I listened to JACK for awhile and noticed that the station plays three songs, then does two and half minutes of commercials. Then it's three more songs, then the commercials again. On and on it goes. Just when you are getting into the groove, they cut to "Arthur's Jewelers, the king of DIAMONDS!!!" It's annoying. Yes, I love that they will play Blondie, and then segue into "Kung Fu Fighting", then hit with the only good song by Dead or Alive, but then we get a commerical. Imagine being at a club and the DJ plays three great songs then takes a three minute break. Wouldn't that throw you off?
I do have one other complaint. Again, it's great that they don't take requests, but I would still like to know the name of the song being played. I heard this one song I hadn't heard since the 80s, and I could not get the name. Let us know what you're playing. That way, maybe we'll buy the CD (or download the song) and give that artist some money. After all, it is all about Capitalism, isn't it?
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Jason DeRusha:
You know, most of our local celebrities couldn't care less about us. You walk up, say hello, they shoot you a dirty look, and walk off. DeRusha is different. He's actually, shock of shocks, a nice guy. Granted, he likes to wear high heels on the newscasts, which is cool, but odd. Still, he's approachable. I remember a few years back at the state fair when all the news people were out. Chris Conangla (who I'm not a big fan of) really didn't want people coming near him. You could see it in his body language. Everytime a fan stopped to see him, he would cringe, hoping that they would go see Jordana instead. Don Shelby? Probably would kill you, put you in a trunk, and throw you in the river. I could go on and on. If you bump into Jason at, say, the former Bear Rock Cafe, and give him a compliment, he actually stops, says thank you, and makes (horror of horrors) eye contact. He actually attempts to be nice, which you don't see very often anymore.
Hell, Tom Brokaw once hit me with a golf club just because I said, "You read the news awesomely!" As he walked off, he muttered, "Bad grammar idiots." Ok, that's not true...he didn't say anything, but still, DeRusha, he's a good guy. Remember that. Just don't bug him when he's with his kid. That's just rude.
And finally:
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New Yorkers Scared...again:
Yes, the people in New York are scared because, (and I kid you not) the city smells "too good" right now. For some unknown reason, Manhattan smells like maple syrup. It's a great smell, but New Yorkers are worried that this is some sort of attack. One woman on CNN actually said, "Oh my GAWD. That smell? I think it's terrorists trying to make us feel betta. Then they'll hit hawrd." (Yes, I am attempting to write dialect. Bite me.)
Look, most of the time, NY smells like hot garbage. The fact that it smells like an Eggo waffle should be a good thing, not bad.
Then again, what do I know? My house smells like Apple Pie, and my neighbors think I'm a terrorist in hiding. I could be wrong.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Life: Rated for Your Approval
| This Is My Life, Rated | |
| Life: |  7.8 |
| Mind: |  6.8 |
| Body: |  6.1 |
| Spirit: | 7.8 |
| Friends/Family: | 6 |
| Love: |  9.1 |
| Finance: | 8.8 |
| Take the Rate My Life Quiz | |
One of my favorite students took this quiz and scored (at least she felt) slightly low on it. Well, being as my insomnia has been kicking in alot lately (here's a tip: If you sprain your ankle, find a way to not swing that ankle into a cat and thereby wake up in pain...not a good idea), I figured, "What the hell?" The questions are pretty easy, and I was very surprised at the outcome. I figured I should talk about each of this:
I understand why Love has the highest score: I'm a happily married man coming up on the five year anniversary. My wife and I click, and I dig that.
Finance is funny. I'm a teacher who doesn't make "the big bucks" as my wife's co-workers like to tell me. Yet, I'm happy about my job which means I have a high score. Ah the balance of life.
The thing that gets me is the high spirit score. I'm essentially an Agnostic Taoist. Yet, I have no problem with that. I do have a problem with blind faith (which seems to be happening more and more), yet my spirit score is higher than a friend of mine who is a devout (and I mean DEVOUT) Catholic. This is a guy who praises God at every turn, yet his spirit score was lower than mine. Maybe it's because of his philosophies about life, I don't know.
Considering that I am an angry, slightly obsessive-compulsive insomniac, who, in his own opinion, is out of shape, my score was much higher than I thought it would be. It's very strange.
Oh, and Herr Worm...apparently...I'm Stoner Bear. Trippy.
Then again, what do I know? I'm the guy in the back of the church asked to leave because I fell asleep. I could be wrong.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Frustration
Ok, so...I may have hurt my ankle again.
I also may need to go to the hospital again, and we all know how much I hate that place.
I'm not having a good day.
Blogger erased my post twice, so I'm giving up.
I'm taking a short break while I try to get my crap together.
Yeah.
Happy birthday John Cleese.
I'm out.
I also may need to go to the hospital again, and we all know how much I hate that place.
I'm not having a good day.
Blogger erased my post twice, so I'm giving up.
I'm taking a short break while I try to get my crap together.
Yeah.
Happy birthday John Cleese.
I'm out.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Fun With Lists
This is the first time I have ever been nailed with one of these. I've seen them on Michele's blog, but I figured I was safe. Then again, I thought the same thing about comment spammers (I hate them so much). And, because I can't sleep, I present 30 questions.
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1. Name someone with the same birthday as you.
Oh jiminy. John Cleese, Kelly Osbourne, Scott Weiland, Simon Lebon, Dylan Thomas (ties into my parents..weirdly) and Teddy Roosevelt.
2. Where was your first kiss?
First kiss ever was by the jungle gym in 3rd grade.
First hardcore (read longer than two seconds) was in 9th grade behind the gym.
3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
What is "seriously vandalized"? Doesn't matter, yes.
4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
If you don't count checking, then no. Never once come close even when pushed.
5. Have you ever sang in front of a large number of people?
Yup. In my 6th grade music teacher's drapes even. I sang a song about being the sun. I'm not kidding. It was based on a japanese fable. The sun and the moon watched over everything and commented in song. I've also sung in public both drunk and not.
6. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
You know, I would love to be noble and say something like, "They way they talk, or the way they wear their hat," but I have to be honest. The first thing ANYONE notices about the opposite sex is how they look. It's the first thing we see. Duh! If I have to pick a specific part, it's the eyes. Bodies come and go, but the eyes tell the whole story of a person.
7. What really turns you on?
A great sense of humor, showing intelligence without showing off, and slight daring.
8. What do you order at Starbucks?
Everyone to get on the ground while I rob the place. I mean $3.25 for a small coffee? You have the money. Ok, fine. I don't drink coffee. So the very last time I was at Starbucks, I was at the airport waiting for my wife. I ordered hot cocoa and a cookie. Yes, I'm that much of a dork, and a big kid.
9. What is your biggest mistake?
The one I know about? Those "lost" years. The one I don't? Is there a mini-me out there I haven't met yet?
10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Sure. First of all, it can make people laugh. Secondly, humans are slightly self-destructive. Eat at a fast food restaurant? You're hurting yourself. You get the idea.
11. Say something totally random about yourself.
I don't have to grow up, but I have to get old. Not random enough? When I was a kid, I believed my stuffed bear had feelings, so I could never throw it away. When my dog ate it...I was crushed.
12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Oh God. I've mentioned this before. Yes. Greg Grunberg.
13. Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
What is a "kiddy movie" or "tv show"? I like Charlie Brown, the Batman (orig) cartoon, and Disney flicks. Need more? I think I have a Squirtle (from Pokemon) a kid I used to work with gave me. Not embarassed.
14. Did you have braces?
Yes. Yes I did. And I have a great smile to prove it.
15. Are you comfortable with your height?
Comfortable? Yeah, though I often wonder what it would be like to be shorter or taller.
16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
Stuck around. Ok, seriously though, the MOST romantic thing? Pretended to be drunk in order to stay at my house and talk to me for most of the night.
17. When do you know it's love?
When you don't look around anymore. When that person is the only one you see. When you suddenly smile when you hear or see them.
18. Do you speak any other languages?
I speak German, I have rudimentary Spanish and Italian, and I can swear and ask for bathrooms or beer in many other languages.
19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Been to one? Yes. Tanned there? NOOOO. I prefer the old fashioned way.
20. What magazines do you read?
Way too many. Sampling? Wine Spectator, Entertainment Weekly, The Hockey News, Newsweek, and on and on it goes. There's a stack of magazines next to my desk that's...let me measure here...9 inches tall. That's about two weeks worth of magazines. I read too much.
21. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Yup, but I still prefer to drive in style, instead of ride.
22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Sadly yes. Too many.
23. Do you watch mtv?
When I can't sleep, and they actually show videos (around three in the morning).
24. What's something that really annoys you?
Damn know-it-alls. Especially teenage know-it-alls. The one's who think they have life figured out, but have never worked a day in their life. Ugh.
25. What's something you really like?
My wife, my cats, hockey, and wine. In that order.
26. Do you like Michael Jackson?
I think the better question is: Does he like me? The answer to that is no. Do I like him? Well, he's not bad in doses. Any music heard over and over and over gets annoying.
27. Can you dance?
Ever seen Napoleon Dynamite? Yeah, that's me, but more white. But I can waltz, baby. I can waltz.
28. What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
I performed a psychological experiment in college to see the effects of a person who stayed up for a week. It almost killed me. I managed to make it to day six before my body shut down on me. That was another rough period.
29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
Yup, when I was two. I had feveral convulsions and stopped breathing. My sister Constance told me years later that she was so mad at me, because she was supposed to get ice cream, but because of me...she didn't. I think she may still be bitter to this day...and she's lactose intolerant, people!
30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
I do. Even if you're incredibly boring. Why? It's good insight into people.
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Feel free to answer these questions on your own blog or send me answers to one or more in comments or in my email.
Oh and happy birthday to Xavier Pagano. You're now a 1 year old. Congrats.
Someday, little XAP, you may read this and see this picture of yourself as a youngin' and ask, "What the hell am I doing?" Well, when you were this sm
all, your really enjoyed sucking on my finger. Why? I have no clue. If you were fussy, crying, or whatever, I just put my finger in your hand, you put it in your mouth and started going to town. I had to pull VERY hard to get my finger back. It was cute and kinda frightening at the same time. Sure do miss you being up here, kiddo.
Happy birthday.
Your (unofficial) uncle Leab.
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1. Name someone with the same birthday as you.
Oh jiminy. John Cleese, Kelly Osbourne, Scott Weiland, Simon Lebon, Dylan Thomas (ties into my parents..weirdly) and Teddy Roosevelt.
2. Where was your first kiss?
First kiss ever was by the jungle gym in 3rd grade.
First hardcore (read longer than two seconds) was in 9th grade behind the gym.
3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
What is "seriously vandalized"? Doesn't matter, yes.
4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
If you don't count checking, then no. Never once come close even when pushed.
5. Have you ever sang in front of a large number of people?
Yup. In my 6th grade music teacher's drapes even. I sang a song about being the sun. I'm not kidding. It was based on a japanese fable. The sun and the moon watched over everything and commented in song. I've also sung in public both drunk and not.
6. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
You know, I would love to be noble and say something like, "They way they talk, or the way they wear their hat," but I have to be honest. The first thing ANYONE notices about the opposite sex is how they look. It's the first thing we see. Duh! If I have to pick a specific part, it's the eyes. Bodies come and go, but the eyes tell the whole story of a person.
7. What really turns you on?
A great sense of humor, showing intelligence without showing off, and slight daring.
8. What do you order at Starbucks?
Everyone to get on the ground while I rob the place. I mean $3.25 for a small coffee? You have the money. Ok, fine. I don't drink coffee. So the very last time I was at Starbucks, I was at the airport waiting for my wife. I ordered hot cocoa and a cookie. Yes, I'm that much of a dork, and a big kid.
9. What is your biggest mistake?
The one I know about? Those "lost" years. The one I don't? Is there a mini-me out there I haven't met yet?
10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Sure. First of all, it can make people laugh. Secondly, humans are slightly self-destructive. Eat at a fast food restaurant? You're hurting yourself. You get the idea.
11. Say something totally random about yourself.
I don't have to grow up, but I have to get old. Not random enough? When I was a kid, I believed my stuffed bear had feelings, so I could never throw it away. When my dog ate it...I was crushed.
12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Oh God. I've mentioned this before. Yes. Greg Grunberg.
13. Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
What is a "kiddy movie" or "tv show"? I like Charlie Brown, the Batman (orig) cartoon, and Disney flicks. Need more? I think I have a Squirtle (from Pokemon) a kid I used to work with gave me. Not embarassed.
14. Did you have braces?
Yes. Yes I did. And I have a great smile to prove it.
15. Are you comfortable with your height?
Comfortable? Yeah, though I often wonder what it would be like to be shorter or taller.
16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
Stuck around. Ok, seriously though, the MOST romantic thing? Pretended to be drunk in order to stay at my house and talk to me for most of the night.
17. When do you know it's love?
When you don't look around anymore. When that person is the only one you see. When you suddenly smile when you hear or see them.
18. Do you speak any other languages?
I speak German, I have rudimentary Spanish and Italian, and I can swear and ask for bathrooms or beer in many other languages.
19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Been to one? Yes. Tanned there? NOOOO. I prefer the old fashioned way.
20. What magazines do you read?
Way too many. Sampling? Wine Spectator, Entertainment Weekly, The Hockey News, Newsweek, and on and on it goes. There's a stack of magazines next to my desk that's...let me measure here...9 inches tall. That's about two weeks worth of magazines. I read too much.
21. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Yup, but I still prefer to drive in style, instead of ride.
22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Sadly yes. Too many.
23. Do you watch mtv?
When I can't sleep, and they actually show videos (around three in the morning).
24. What's something that really annoys you?
Damn know-it-alls. Especially teenage know-it-alls. The one's who think they have life figured out, but have never worked a day in their life. Ugh.
25. What's something you really like?
My wife, my cats, hockey, and wine. In that order.
26. Do you like Michael Jackson?
I think the better question is: Does he like me? The answer to that is no. Do I like him? Well, he's not bad in doses. Any music heard over and over and over gets annoying.
27. Can you dance?
Ever seen Napoleon Dynamite? Yeah, that's me, but more white. But I can waltz, baby. I can waltz.
28. What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
I performed a psychological experiment in college to see the effects of a person who stayed up for a week. It almost killed me. I managed to make it to day six before my body shut down on me. That was another rough period.
29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
Yup, when I was two. I had feveral convulsions and stopped breathing. My sister Constance told me years later that she was so mad at me, because she was supposed to get ice cream, but because of me...she didn't. I think she may still be bitter to this day...and she's lactose intolerant, people!
30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
I do. Even if you're incredibly boring. Why? It's good insight into people.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feel free to answer these questions on your own blog or send me answers to one or more in comments or in my email.
Oh and happy birthday to Xavier Pagano. You're now a 1 year old. Congrats.
Someday, little XAP, you may read this and see this picture of yourself as a youngin' and ask, "What the hell am I doing?" Well, when you were this sm
.jpg)
all, your really enjoyed sucking on my finger. Why? I have no clue. If you were fussy, crying, or whatever, I just put my finger in your hand, you put it in your mouth and started going to town. I had to pull VERY hard to get my finger back. It was cute and kinda frightening at the same time. Sure do miss you being up here, kiddo. Happy birthday.
Your (unofficial) uncle Leab.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
A Late Night Joke (or Insomnia...she is a fickle thing)
So here's a joke for non-Vikings fans. I got it, oddly enough, from a Vikings fan who said, "Oh, I sadly agree with this...and it's quite funny." Enjoy.
Vikings Anthrax Threat a hoax
Minnesota Vikings football practice was delayed nearly two hours this morning after a player reported finding an unknown white powdery substance on the practice field. Head coach, Mike Tice, immediately suspended practice while police and federal agents were called to investigate. After a complete analysis, FBI forensic experts determined that the white substance unknown to the players was the goal line. Practice was resumed today after special agents decided the team was unlikely to encounter the substance again.
Oh, and one more note (or rambling):
I got a letter in the mail today from St. Thomas. They have asked me to be a speaker when the NCATE (National Council of Accreditation of Teacher Education) to the school. Basically, I'm supposed to go and talk about how great the program is and why they should be allowed to keep their accreditation. Awesome. I think it's absolutely great they asked me...it means they forgot about the eight page letter I turned in on the day I finished my student teaching.
In every program I've ever been a part of, people complain to high heaven about what they don't like. These people make big statements like, "One day, I'm going to tell it like it is and tell off the head of the department." Then, when the time comes to talk about it, they chicken out and nothing happens. That's always pissed me off. I can remember one time while I was in college, I had a really bad experience on a show I was working on. The director, under a great deal of stress, started ripping into my crew when I was out of the room. He made two of my crew members cry (they were freshman and new to the game). That pissed me off. Now, at the end of every production is a post-mortem where you talk about issues and such. I had the verbal backing of the designers, some of the crew, and a few actors to back up my complaints about his (the director's) behavior. I go in, bring it up, and the room goes dead silent. Those bastardos and beeyotches left me high and dry. Why? They were afraid that complaining would mean they wouldn't get cast/hired/picked again. I stuck to my guns. It meant that I was banished to what was considered the worst productions, but I made those productions much better. In the end, my last show was with that same director. Wasn't a great experience the second time around either.
The point? Well, I complained during my tenure at St. Thomas about communication issues and more. To prove my point that I would complain, I wrote a manifesto as it were. Everything that went wrong while I was there was in paper form to be read by anyone. I talked about the communication issues, the fact that some faculty have taught before and others were brought in because of, "background knowledge." I hit every little issue from day 1 until my last day. During my exit interview, I made the woman talking to me cry. Then, they made me wait until the head of the department was available, and he and I talked for almost an hour. Suffice to say, he was not happy with my observations.
Yet, here I am being asked to tell a group of people why the school is so great. This may, in fact, reinforce my theory that no one in that program talks to each other. Don't get me wrong, I agreed to do it, because it looks good on the record. This a national council, and they have good connections.
Then again, what do I know? I get told by students that I don't communicate my feelings very well. I could be wrong.
Vikings Anthrax Threat a hoax
Minnesota Vikings football practice was delayed nearly two hours this morning after a player reported finding an unknown white powdery substance on the practice field. Head coach, Mike Tice, immediately suspended practice while police and federal agents were called to investigate. After a complete analysis, FBI forensic experts determined that the white substance unknown to the players was the goal line. Practice was resumed today after special agents decided the team was unlikely to encounter the substance again.
Oh, and one more note (or rambling):
I got a letter in the mail today from St. Thomas. They have asked me to be a speaker when the NCATE (National Council of Accreditation of Teacher Education) to the school. Basically, I'm supposed to go and talk about how great the program is and why they should be allowed to keep their accreditation. Awesome. I think it's absolutely great they asked me...it means they forgot about the eight page letter I turned in on the day I finished my student teaching.
In every program I've ever been a part of, people complain to high heaven about what they don't like. These people make big statements like, "One day, I'm going to tell it like it is and tell off the head of the department." Then, when the time comes to talk about it, they chicken out and nothing happens. That's always pissed me off. I can remember one time while I was in college, I had a really bad experience on a show I was working on. The director, under a great deal of stress, started ripping into my crew when I was out of the room. He made two of my crew members cry (they were freshman and new to the game). That pissed me off. Now, at the end of every production is a post-mortem where you talk about issues and such. I had the verbal backing of the designers, some of the crew, and a few actors to back up my complaints about his (the director's) behavior. I go in, bring it up, and the room goes dead silent. Those bastardos and beeyotches left me high and dry. Why? They were afraid that complaining would mean they wouldn't get cast/hired/picked again. I stuck to my guns. It meant that I was banished to what was considered the worst productions, but I made those productions much better. In the end, my last show was with that same director. Wasn't a great experience the second time around either.
The point? Well, I complained during my tenure at St. Thomas about communication issues and more. To prove my point that I would complain, I wrote a manifesto as it were. Everything that went wrong while I was there was in paper form to be read by anyone. I talked about the communication issues, the fact that some faculty have taught before and others were brought in because of, "background knowledge." I hit every little issue from day 1 until my last day. During my exit interview, I made the woman talking to me cry. Then, they made me wait until the head of the department was available, and he and I talked for almost an hour. Suffice to say, he was not happy with my observations.
Yet, here I am being asked to tell a group of people why the school is so great. This may, in fact, reinforce my theory that no one in that program talks to each other. Don't get me wrong, I agreed to do it, because it looks good on the record. This a national council, and they have good connections.
Then again, what do I know? I get told by students that I don't communicate my feelings very well. I could be wrong.
Ramblings for the Evening (10/25/05)
Ugh. My wife is sick, and it's taking a toll on me. Before you think I'm an insensitive person, realize that I am taking care of her and myself as well as working as well as being an insomniac. Ugh. It was a long day.
Because my wife is sick, I'm not sure I'm going to the game tonight. We'll see.
Well, without further ado: HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT!
Spike Lee
I watch Real Time With Bill Maher. I admit it. I find him funny. Anyway, he had Spike Lee on as one of his panelists and asked Spike about the new NBA Dress Code. Now, Spike Lee is about to turn 50 years old. He's been making movies for a long time, and he even has a new documentary about Hurricane Katrina. He responded that he doesn't really have a problem with the new dress code. He also let out that he isn't a big fan of the "Gangsta culutre in hip-hop."
Now, I'm a white guy, so I can't really talk too much about African-American culture (I also believe that as a guy, it's not really my place to talk about abortion...a woman does it, so it's hers to talk about...but that's for another time). However, here's my problem:
On the one hand, I understand the new NBA dress code, and I don't really disagree with them. No headphones? Fine. The players need to look nice? Fine. The players are representatives of the league and thus should look good.
On the other hand, this is a bunch of white guys telling mostly African-American men how they need to look in public. One owner, Mark Cuban (a white dude) disagrees with the dress code, but went along with it because the league told him to do so. This seems to be the only league with this kind of dress code. On off days, baseball players aren't told to be dressed in business casual.
Why do I bring up Spike Lee, you ask? Well, only one day after making those comments on Bill Maher's show, Spike was called the new version of "Uncle Tom." Many members of the "Gangsta" community that Spike disagreed with called him a, "Cosby." Cosby, as you may or may not remember, talked about how the new generation of African-Americans are not well educated and embarassing. At the same time, he railed against the neo hip-hop community. Lee, who has been an activist for years, is now being considered a traitor to his own race? What the hell is wrong with people? He doesn't agree with something. That's his opinion. Is he spending money to eradicate all traces of neo hip-hop in African- American culture? No. Just because he feels that it can be a bad influence doesn't mean he's against black people. Nor does it mean he's an "uncle tom." It's disappointing to hear this.
Hey, I don't like how neo hip-hop is influencing white people, does that mean I'm a traitor to my race? Anyone?
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Anger and the Computer Geek
I played tennis this past weekend against a guy who looks a lot like this. While he seemed mild-mannered, he immediately turned into the angriest person I have ever played against in my whole life (only in tennis, however). Every shot I called out, he questioned. He aimed for me when I was at the net. You're supposed to pass the opposing player, not take off a limb. At one point, I dove for a shot at net and popped the ball up. I could see this flash in his eyes, and he looked between me and the ball with this look of blood lust. He meant to smack that ball at me and hurt me. When he hit the ball, it just missed my head. He laughed after the ball got by and said, "Oh shucks. I just missed." Now, I can't really blame him. At one point, my mother jokingly offered me a quarter everytime I hit the guy teaching me tennis. Back to the point however. I knew he was a computer geek, because that's how he introduced himself to me. I asked him what he did for a living. His response? "Well, I do computer work. It's kinda hard to explain to people who don't know." Wow, way to underestimate my intelligence, dude. I know this guy is put upon at his job (he told me), and I know he's in a marriage where his wife and kids don't respect him (again, he told me. I had to hear a whole story about how his sons enjoy playing tennis against him and hitting him with the ball).
I used to be as competitive as this guy. If I didn't win, then I got angry. Hell, one year in college I wanted to win at Trivial Pursuit against my friends, so I "borrowed" the question cards and memorized ALL of them. I wanted to win. When I was a kid, I was so hardcore about wining that I would beat myself up if I didn't win both mentally and physically. Luckily my sisters beat the crap out of me and worked on breaking my ego. It made me a better person (seriously).
I mentioned last week I have been feeling really angry lately. Now I watched this guy as we played, and I saw myself. I heard the way he talked to himself, the way he moved when he hit the ball into the net, and more. He was just like me. During the first set (which he won easily), I was just like him. I was so angry, and my head just wasn't in the game. I was thinking about my wife, my life, hospitals and doctors, and more. After losing the first set, I walked to the bench, took a drink, and just looked at this guy. He was slumped over, shaking, and talking to himself about work. I saw myself, and I was shocked. I felt so stupid.
When I walked out to start the second set, I just let it all go. I figured out a way to just stop thinking: I let a song take over my brain. Seriously. I started whistling quietly. The song? My Blue Heaven. I don't know why, but it took over and that was the only thing I heard. It was the first time that I didn't have multiple things going through my head (see below to read more about my brain). I served better, and I played better. I ended up winning the next two sets, but not without dealing with his anger.
Maybe this is the first step to dialing back the anger, but only time will tell.
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Minnesotans Forgive those Vikes
Oh, I'm so disappointed in Vikings fans. Here are people crying out that the team needs to b
e broken up, that something needs to be done to punish these guys, and that it sickens them to think about it....And then the team beat the Packers, and, as one fan put it, "All is forgiven." That's a sad commentary folks. Hey, you're a rapist...but you're also our best player...win and we forget the sin (hmm, I sense a sign at the next home game). So let's hit a few of the problems here:
First of all, if you REALLY want to "hurt the team" or "get revenge" as so many people put it, then you need to NOT watch the game, NOT go to the game, or NOT listen to the game. If you want to the players to take notice, hit them where it hurts: the bank. No ratings, no revenue, no money. In the new millenium, it's all about the dough, isn't it?
Secondly, realize that Minnesotans, beyond being HUGE fairweather fans, are neither the best nor the worst fans when it comes to sports. They're near the top for hockey, but those crafty Canadiens are better and more supportive. Below is a list of the worst fans in four leagues.
Baseball: Hands down it's the Chicago White Sox fans. One fan slapped a player's wife, two other fans jumped out of the crowd, charged the Kansas City Royals' 1st base coach, and beat him.
Ever hear of Disco Demolition Night? It went from destroying Disco records to beatings and burnings. Yankee fans throw batteries. White Sox fans throw darts. Ouch.
Football: Hands down it's the Philadelphia Eagles' fans. They booed Santa, for cripes sake. They threw snowballs at their OWN TEAM! These guys are just finicky, they're down right vicious. They will throw batteries at fans of the other team.
Basketball: This was a tough one, but after careful consideration, the answer is Detroit. I hadn't thought about it, but years ago I went to a Pistons game with my mother. We sat almost all the way up at the top of the Palace of Auburn Hills. Even up there, when the team started losing, people attempted to throw things at the opposing team. Hell, about five years ago, a few Pistons fans figured out where the opposing teams were staying and phoned in prank calls about dead wives and such. That leads to...
Hockey: Maybe I'm biased from where I grew up, but the worst fans in the NHL are on the Island. That's right NY Islanders fans are the WORST in the NHL. Why? Let's look at the track record. They boo their own team for no reason, sometimes after they score. "The Islanders are winning? BOOOOOOO!" This is a team that had something called "the Santa Skate-Around" where children could skate on the ice with guys dressed as Santa. One fan took off his coat to reveal a NY Rangers jersey (the hated rival) and was beaten. Not only punched, but they found cuts on his body...from skates. That's hardcore hate, folks.
Am I disappointed in Vikings fans? Oh hell yes. They win, you forget about the troubles. If they lose every game for the rest of the season, will you still profess love? Probably not, I'm betting.
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A Sports Conspiracy: I just find it fascinating that Major League Baseball seems to be helping the Chicago White Sox. Three blown calls helped them get in and win the first two games of the World Series. Now, the Houston Astros aren't allowed to close their roof for tonight's games. That benefits the White Sox. Last year it was the Red Sox, now it's the White Sox. Yet there are no ratings. Perhaps this is a conspiracy, or perhaps it's just a mercy killing to end such a long season.
And finally:
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My Brain:
I had a student ask me the most random question: "How would you describe your brain?" I didn't understand the question at first. What the hell does that mean? So I asked, "What do you mean?" She explained to me that some people refer to their brain as a car, a house, a kitchen, a machine, etc. I had to think about it. What is my brain like?
After a minute, it dawned on me. I guess I had always known. My brain is like a radio. The more I thought about this, the more I realized why I can't sleep at night.
Imagine your brain is a radio. Most radios can only get one station at a time. Occasionally a second station flares in for a second, but more often than not, it's one station.
For me, there are four stations coming in clearly all at once. Seriously. I'm constantly multi-tasking while thinking or doing anything. Hell, while I write this, I'm also on the phone talking to someone, making a grocery list, and working out the "to do" list for the rest of my week. What's worse is when everything goes quiet (such as when I try to sleep). That's when I get restless because not enough is going on.
When I was covering the Film Studies class, I almost went nuts. Watch the film...that's it. So I had to work on other things while the film was playing.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe it means I'm crazy. I don't know.
Then again, what do I know? I'm the guy at the Wild games who's watching the game, writing in his notebook, talking to his neighbors, and writing lesson plans...all at once. I could be wrong.
Because my wife is sick, I'm not sure I'm going to the game tonight. We'll see.
Well, without further ado: HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT!
Spike Lee
I watch Real Time With Bill Maher. I admit it. I find him funny. Anyway, he had Spike Lee on as one of his panelists and asked Spike about the new NBA Dress Code. Now, Spike Lee is about to turn 50 years old. He's been making movies for a long time, and he even has a new documentary about Hurricane Katrina. He responded that he doesn't really have a problem with the new dress code. He also let out that he isn't a big fan of the "Gangsta culutre in hip-hop."
Now, I'm a white guy, so I can't really talk too much about African-American culture (I also believe that as a guy, it's not really my place to talk about abortion...a woman does it, so it's hers to talk about...but that's for another time). However, here's my problem:
On the one hand, I understand the new NBA dress code, and I don't really disagree with them. No headphones? Fine. The players need to look nice? Fine. The players are representatives of the league and thus should look good.
On the other hand, this is a bunch of white guys telling mostly African-American men how they need to look in public. One owner, Mark Cuban (a white dude) disagrees with the dress code, but went along with it because the league told him to do so. This seems to be the only league with this kind of dress code. On off days, baseball players aren't told to be dressed in business casual.
Why do I bring up Spike Lee, you ask? Well, only one day after making those comments on Bill Maher's show, Spike was called the new version of "Uncle Tom." Many members of the "Gangsta" community that Spike disagreed with called him a, "Cosby." Cosby, as you may or may not remember, talked about how the new generation of African-Americans are not well educated and embarassing. At the same time, he railed against the neo hip-hop community. Lee, who has been an activist for years, is now being considered a traitor to his own race? What the hell is wrong with people? He doesn't agree with something. That's his opinion. Is he spending money to eradicate all traces of neo hip-hop in African- American culture? No. Just because he feels that it can be a bad influence doesn't mean he's against black people. Nor does it mean he's an "uncle tom." It's disappointing to hear this.
Hey, I don't like how neo hip-hop is influencing white people, does that mean I'm a traitor to my race? Anyone?
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Anger and the Computer Geek
I played tennis this past weekend against a guy who looks a lot like this. While he seemed mild-mannered, he immediately turned into the angriest person I have ever played against in my whole life (only in tennis, however). Every shot I called out, he questioned. He aimed for me when I was at the net. You're supposed to pass the opposing player, not take off a limb. At one point, I dove for a shot at net and popped the ball up. I could see this flash in his eyes, and he looked between me and the ball with this look of blood lust. He meant to smack that ball at me and hurt me. When he hit the ball, it just missed my head. He laughed after the ball got by and said, "Oh shucks. I just missed." Now, I can't really blame him. At one point, my mother jokingly offered me a quarter everytime I hit the guy teaching me tennis. Back to the point however. I knew he was a computer geek, because that's how he introduced himself to me. I asked him what he did for a living. His response? "Well, I do computer work. It's kinda hard to explain to people who don't know." Wow, way to underestimate my intelligence, dude. I know this guy is put upon at his job (he told me), and I know he's in a marriage where his wife and kids don't respect him (again, he told me. I had to hear a whole story about how his sons enjoy playing tennis against him and hitting him with the ball).I used to be as competitive as this guy. If I didn't win, then I got angry. Hell, one year in college I wanted to win at Trivial Pursuit against my friends, so I "borrowed" the question cards and memorized ALL of them. I wanted to win. When I was a kid, I was so hardcore about wining that I would beat myself up if I didn't win both mentally and physically. Luckily my sisters beat the crap out of me and worked on breaking my ego. It made me a better person (seriously).
I mentioned last week I have been feeling really angry lately. Now I watched this guy as we played, and I saw myself. I heard the way he talked to himself, the way he moved when he hit the ball into the net, and more. He was just like me. During the first set (which he won easily), I was just like him. I was so angry, and my head just wasn't in the game. I was thinking about my wife, my life, hospitals and doctors, and more. After losing the first set, I walked to the bench, took a drink, and just looked at this guy. He was slumped over, shaking, and talking to himself about work. I saw myself, and I was shocked. I felt so stupid.
When I walked out to start the second set, I just let it all go. I figured out a way to just stop thinking: I let a song take over my brain. Seriously. I started whistling quietly. The song? My Blue Heaven. I don't know why, but it took over and that was the only thing I heard. It was the first time that I didn't have multiple things going through my head (see below to read more about my brain). I served better, and I played better. I ended up winning the next two sets, but not without dealing with his anger.
Maybe this is the first step to dialing back the anger, but only time will tell.
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Minnesotans Forgive those Vikes
Oh, I'm so disappointed in Vikings fans. Here are people crying out that the team needs to b
e broken up, that something needs to be done to punish these guys, and that it sickens them to think about it....And then the team beat the Packers, and, as one fan put it, "All is forgiven." That's a sad commentary folks. Hey, you're a rapist...but you're also our best player...win and we forget the sin (hmm, I sense a sign at the next home game). So let's hit a few of the problems here:First of all, if you REALLY want to "hurt the team" or "get revenge" as so many people put it, then you need to NOT watch the game, NOT go to the game, or NOT listen to the game. If you want to the players to take notice, hit them where it hurts: the bank. No ratings, no revenue, no money. In the new millenium, it's all about the dough, isn't it?
Secondly, realize that Minnesotans, beyond being HUGE fairweather fans, are neither the best nor the worst fans when it comes to sports. They're near the top for hockey, but those crafty Canadiens are better and more supportive. Below is a list of the worst fans in four leagues.
Baseball: Hands down it's the Chicago White Sox fans. One fan slapped a player's wife, two other fans jumped out of the crowd, charged the Kansas City Royals' 1st base coach, and beat him.
Ever hear of Disco Demolition Night? It went from destroying Disco records to beatings and burnings. Yankee fans throw batteries. White Sox fans throw darts. Ouch.
Football: Hands down it's the Philadelphia Eagles' fans. They booed Santa, for cripes sake. They threw snowballs at their OWN TEAM! These guys are just finicky, they're down right vicious. They will throw batteries at fans of the other team.
Basketball: This was a tough one, but after careful consideration, the answer is Detroit. I hadn't thought about it, but years ago I went to a Pistons game with my mother. We sat almost all the way up at the top of the Palace of Auburn Hills. Even up there, when the team started losing, people attempted to throw things at the opposing team. Hell, about five years ago, a few Pistons fans figured out where the opposing teams were staying and phoned in prank calls about dead wives and such. That leads to...
Hockey: Maybe I'm biased from where I grew up, but the worst fans in the NHL are on the Island. That's right NY Islanders fans are the WORST in the NHL. Why? Let's look at the track record. They boo their own team for no reason, sometimes after they score. "The Islanders are winning? BOOOOOOO!" This is a team that had something called "the Santa Skate-Around" where children could skate on the ice with guys dressed as Santa. One fan took off his coat to reveal a NY Rangers jersey (the hated rival) and was beaten. Not only punched, but they found cuts on his body...from skates. That's hardcore hate, folks.
Am I disappointed in Vikings fans? Oh hell yes. They win, you forget about the troubles. If they lose every game for the rest of the season, will you still profess love? Probably not, I'm betting.
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A Sports Conspiracy: I just find it fascinating that Major League Baseball seems to be helping the Chicago White Sox. Three blown calls helped them get in and win the first two games of the World Series. Now, the Houston Astros aren't allowed to close their roof for tonight's games. That benefits the White Sox. Last year it was the Red Sox, now it's the White Sox. Yet there are no ratings. Perhaps this is a conspiracy, or perhaps it's just a mercy killing to end such a long season.
And finally:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My Brain:
I had a student ask me the most random question: "How would you describe your brain?" I didn't understand the question at first. What the hell does that mean? So I asked, "What do you mean?" She explained to me that some people refer to their brain as a car, a house, a kitchen, a machine, etc. I had to think about it. What is my brain like?
After a minute, it dawned on me. I guess I had always known. My brain is like a radio. The more I thought about this, the more I realized why I can't sleep at night.
Imagine your brain is a radio. Most radios can only get one station at a time. Occasionally a second station flares in for a second, but more often than not, it's one station.
For me, there are four stations coming in clearly all at once. Seriously. I'm constantly multi-tasking while thinking or doing anything. Hell, while I write this, I'm also on the phone talking to someone, making a grocery list, and working out the "to do" list for the rest of my week. What's worse is when everything goes quiet (such as when I try to sleep). That's when I get restless because not enough is going on.
When I was covering the Film Studies class, I almost went nuts. Watch the film...that's it. So I had to work on other things while the film was playing.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe it means I'm crazy. I don't know.
Then again, what do I know? I'm the guy at the Wild games who's watching the game, writing in his notebook, talking to his neighbors, and writing lesson plans...all at once. I could be wrong.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Mail Mondays (10/24/05)
Wow, another Monday. Seriously, does anyone like Mondays? After a few days of relaxing, you have to return to the grind. Be it as a student, worker, or whatever. Oy vey.
Well, let's get to the mail this week.
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Hey Leab,
Where do you get all your stories (the stripper guy, the dead Aussie, etc.)? You sure these are real?
The Fact Checker
Well, Mr. or Ms. Fact Checker,
I read way too much. When all is said and done at the end of the day, I read about six newspapers (at least), several websites, and (shock of shocks) I talk to colleagues about what they've been reading, listening to, etc. I'm very sure that the stripper story is real. It was in the NY Daily News (free to read online...for now), and today they pontificated about it on KQRS (though they once again left out facts that were pertinent...you know like this happened two years ago today). On a side note, I love this picture. It's the ultimate "deer in headlights." McCormick looks like the camera guy called him Hitler. As for some of the other stories, well, I read "The Strange News" on the Comcast and Yahoo websites. Yup, while you're reading about Britney Spears, I'm reading about an exploding python, a dead Aussie driver, and more.
Why do I read so much? Well, if you just read one paper or one source, you don't get everything. I love to read both the NY Daily News AND the NY Post, because one if super conservative and one is pretty liberal, so they will approach a story very differently. It allows you to find the truth in that story, because, you see, the truth is always in the middle. It's never as clear cut as they present. No one side is always right. It just doesn't work that way. That's why I read so many sources.
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Leab,
Who's this Emma person you mentioned before?
Inquiring minds want to know?
Anonymous
Oh sure, "Anonymous", I bet "they" do. Where do I begin? Emma is the reason why the St. Thomas Education program now talks about what to do when your students "like you." That's
right. I was asked to talk to the program heads (and to a few classes) about what to do when a student has a crush on you. Now, she may deny it, or she may not, but most of my colleagues (and some of her fellow students) believe that she had a crush on me. Now, I honestly can't tell you what goes on in the heart and mind of a teenage girl, but this one, I am assured, had a thing for me. Emma is not your typical teenager. Most teenage girls aren't really concentrating on the far future, yet she was. 
She's quite intelligent, and he fondness for me led to many interesting days.
Emma was one of the students, for example, who arrived at my home to "fork" my lawn. I know a few people aren't sure what "forking"is. Basically, the students put many, many forks into the teacher's lawn. As Emma once put it, "It's the new TP." I've mentioned before how she and a friend came to my home.
However, there were other stories as well. For example, I turned Emma into a Smurf. Ok, not a real smurf, but close enough for reality's sake. I was working on a set, and I warned her not keep hitting me with
paint (think third grade hair pulling, but make it about paint). I gave her one final warning: "If you do that again, you will regret it." Well, being as she is the typical teenager, she did it again. So, I put her on a cardboard box and said, "If you apologize, I will not do it, but if you don't, I will pour a can of paint over your head. She refused, so...I made good. I took the blue paint, and I poured it over her head. The students (who had turned up to watch) were shocked. Emma was shocked. I, however, had proven that my word is my bond. There is a testament to that day on the wall outside the scene shop at the school. It has to do with "The Legend of Mr. Leab." Of course, funnier than the actual paint pouring was Emma's response. She first attempted to hug me (in order to get me painted), then walked around in a bra. Several students (and the director of the show) commented about the fact that she seemed to be walking by me mostly. What a shock.
The bottom line is that Emma is a very smart girl, but she has never been given boundaries. She's smart enough to get around most people, but when she ran into me, she was stuck. One of the things I know annoys her is the fact that she could never beat me. I could use logic or simple verbal tricks to stop her in her tracks. That is why I think she liked me: I was her foil. I said no, stuck to my guns, and outwitted her. Now, she goes to another school, and I don't really hear from her.
Hope that answers your question, "Anonymous."
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Leab
Law # 2 of "Leab's Laws of Life" makes no sense. How can the situation be hopeless, but not serious? That makes no sense!
A Student
Oh boy. I sure got alot on this one. Some people liked Leab's Laws of Life (scroll to the bottom), some people really didn't. Funny enough, it was the students who questioned more than the adults. I really thought it was going to be the other way. Whatever, back to the point.
#2: The situation is hopeless, but not serious. What does it mean? It means that even if things look bad, you can't dwell on them so hardcore. It DOES NOT mean that you ignore the seriousness, but rather understand it, and then move on to figuring out how to solve it. You fail on a test. It's hopeless that you can get the grade changed to passing, but the seriousness of it shouldn't be held on to for days. In the grand scheme of things, you will have more tests to take, more chances. That's what it means. Make sense now?
Thanks for stopping in for today's mail. See you all tomorrow...maybe.
Well, let's get to the mail this week.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey Leab,
Where do you get all your stories (the stripper guy, the dead Aussie, etc.)? You sure these are real?
The Fact Checker
Well, Mr. or Ms. Fact Checker,
I read way too much. When all is said and done at the end of the day, I read about six newspapers (at least), several websites, and (shock of shocks) I talk to colleagues about what they've been reading, listening to, etc. I'm very sure that the stripper story is real. It was in the NY Daily News (free to read online...for now), and today they pontificated about it on KQRS (though they once again left out facts that were pertinent...you know like this happened two years ago today). On a side note, I love this picture. It's the ultimate "deer in headlights." McCormick looks like the camera guy called him Hitler. As for some of the other stories, well, I read "The Strange News" on the Comcast and Yahoo websites. Yup, while you're reading about Britney Spears, I'm reading about an exploding python, a dead Aussie driver, and more.
Why do I read so much? Well, if you just read one paper or one source, you don't get everything. I love to read both the NY Daily News AND the NY Post, because one if super conservative and one is pretty liberal, so they will approach a story very differently. It allows you to find the truth in that story, because, you see, the truth is always in the middle. It's never as clear cut as they present. No one side is always right. It just doesn't work that way. That's why I read so many sources.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leab,
Who's this Emma person you mentioned before?
Inquiring minds want to know?
Anonymous
Oh sure, "Anonymous", I bet "they" do. Where do I begin? Emma is the reason why the St. Thomas Education program now talks about what to do when your students "like you." That's
right. I was asked to talk to the program heads (and to a few classes) about what to do when a student has a crush on you. Now, she may deny it, or she may not, but most of my colleagues (and some of her fellow students) believe that she had a crush on me. Now, I honestly can't tell you what goes on in the heart and mind of a teenage girl, but this one, I am assured, had a thing for me. Emma is not your typical teenager. Most teenage girls aren't really concentrating on the far future, yet she was. 
She's quite intelligent, and he fondness for me led to many interesting days.
Emma was one of the students, for example, who arrived at my home to "fork" my lawn. I know a few people aren't sure what "forking"is. Basically, the students put many, many forks into the teacher's lawn. As Emma once put it, "It's the new TP." I've mentioned before how she and a friend came to my home.
However, there were other stories as well. For example, I turned Emma into a Smurf. Ok, not a real smurf, but close enough for reality's sake. I was working on a set, and I warned her not keep hitting me with
paint (think third grade hair pulling, but make it about paint). I gave her one final warning: "If you do that again, you will regret it." Well, being as she is the typical teenager, she did it again. So, I put her on a cardboard box and said, "If you apologize, I will not do it, but if you don't, I will pour a can of paint over your head. She refused, so...I made good. I took the blue paint, and I poured it over her head. The students (who had turned up to watch) were shocked. Emma was shocked. I, however, had proven that my word is my bond. There is a testament to that day on the wall outside the scene shop at the school. It has to do with "The Legend of Mr. Leab." Of course, funnier than the actual paint pouring was Emma's response. She first attempted to hug me (in order to get me painted), then walked around in a bra. Several students (and the director of the show) commented about the fact that she seemed to be walking by me mostly. What a shock.The bottom line is that Emma is a very smart girl, but she has never been given boundaries. She's smart enough to get around most people, but when she ran into me, she was stuck. One of the things I know annoys her is the fact that she could never beat me. I could use logic or simple verbal tricks to stop her in her tracks. That is why I think she liked me: I was her foil. I said no, stuck to my guns, and outwitted her. Now, she goes to another school, and I don't really hear from her.
Hope that answers your question, "Anonymous."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leab
Law # 2 of "Leab's Laws of Life" makes no sense. How can the situation be hopeless, but not serious? That makes no sense!
A Student
Oh boy. I sure got alot on this one. Some people liked Leab's Laws of Life (scroll to the bottom), some people really didn't. Funny enough, it was the students who questioned more than the adults. I really thought it was going to be the other way. Whatever, back to the point.
#2: The situation is hopeless, but not serious. What does it mean? It means that even if things look bad, you can't dwell on them so hardcore. It DOES NOT mean that you ignore the seriousness, but rather understand it, and then move on to figuring out how to solve it. You fail on a test. It's hopeless that you can get the grade changed to passing, but the seriousness of it shouldn't be held on to for days. In the grand scheme of things, you will have more tests to take, more chances. That's what it means. Make sense now?
Thanks for stopping in for today's mail. See you all tomorrow...maybe.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
A Little Saturday Humor
So, here's a joke for your Saturday night enjoyment (I mean with SNL not so funny anymore and Mad TV never on due to sporting events, we all need a good joke. This one's an oldie but goldie. Enjoy (no, it's not meant to offend. It's just a joke).
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Several centuries ago, the Pope decreed that all the Jews had to convert or leave Italy. There was a huge outcry from the Jewish community, so the Pope offered a deal. He would have a religious debate with the leader of the Jewish community. If the Jews won, they could stay in Italy. However, if the Pope won, they would have to leave or convert. The Jewish people met and picked an aged, but wise, Rabbi Moishe to represent them in the debate. However, as Moishe spoke no Italian and the Pope spoke no Hebrew, they all agreed that it would be a "silent" debate.
On the chosen day, the Pope and Rabbi Moishe sat opposite each other for a full minute before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers.
Rabbi Moishe looked back and raised one finger.
Next, the Pope waved his finger around his head.
Rabbi Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat.
The Pope then brought out a communion wafer and a chalice of wine.
Rabbi Moishe pulled out an apple.
With that, the Pope stood up and declared that he was beaten, that Rabbi Moishe was too clever and that the Jews could stay in Italy.
Later, the Cardinals met with the Pope, asking what had happened. The Pope said, "First, I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there is still only one God common to both our beliefs. Then, I waved my finger around my head to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground to show that God was also right here with us. I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us of all our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of the original sin. He had me beaten at my every move and I could not continue."
Meanwhile the Jewish community was gathered around Rabbi Moishe. "How did you win the debate?" they asked.
"I haven't a clue," said Moishe. "First he said to me that we had three days to get out of Italy, so I gave him the finger! Then he tells me that the whole country would be cleared of Jews and I said to him, we're staying right here."
"And then what?" asked a woman.
"Who knows?" said Moishe, "He took out his lunch so I took out mine."
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Several centuries ago, the Pope decreed that all the Jews had to convert or leave Italy. There was a huge outcry from the Jewish community, so the Pope offered a deal. He would have a religious debate with the leader of the Jewish community. If the Jews won, they could stay in Italy. However, if the Pope won, they would have to leave or convert. The Jewish people met and picked an aged, but wise, Rabbi Moishe to represent them in the debate. However, as Moishe spoke no Italian and the Pope spoke no Hebrew, they all agreed that it would be a "silent" debate.
On the chosen day, the Pope and Rabbi Moishe sat opposite each other for a full minute before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers.
Rabbi Moishe looked back and raised one finger.
Next, the Pope waved his finger around his head.
Rabbi Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat.
The Pope then brought out a communion wafer and a chalice of wine.
Rabbi Moishe pulled out an apple.
With that, the Pope stood up and declared that he was beaten, that Rabbi Moishe was too clever and that the Jews could stay in Italy.
Later, the Cardinals met with the Pope, asking what had happened. The Pope said, "First, I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there is still only one God common to both our beliefs. Then, I waved my finger around my head to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground to show that God was also right here with us. I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us of all our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of the original sin. He had me beaten at my every move and I could not continue."
Meanwhile the Jewish community was gathered around Rabbi Moishe. "How did you win the debate?" they asked.
"I haven't a clue," said Moishe. "First he said to me that we had three days to get out of Italy, so I gave him the finger! Then he tells me that the whole country would be cleared of Jews and I said to him, we're staying right here."
"And then what?" asked a woman.
"Who knows?" said Moishe, "He took out his lunch so I took out mine."
Friday, October 21, 2005
Ramblings for the Morning (10/21/05)
How strange. It's almost nine a.m., and I've done...nothing. It's a very odd feeling. I would say other teachers know what I mean, but I think many of the teachers I know already can relax at a moment's notice. Wonder what that's like....
Well, anyway, without furthur ado: NOT MY HAND! (seriously, do any of you know any of these?)
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Lap it up:
Look at this man. Beyond just his utterly off appearance, this man managed to spend, according to the NY Daily News story, $241,000 on strippers and such at the famous Scores club in NY. Let's start with the club. Scores is like an even more upscale version of Sheiks here in Minneapolis. If you're a celebrity (be it Queen Latifah, a wrestler, David Beckham, or even Brad Pitt), you head to Scores for all your stripping needs. Now, company men also head to Scores (as is evident by this story), but most are smart enough to either take someone to help them (such as a sobber buddy. This is a person who doesn't drink and then makes sure you don't do anything stupid....You know, like pay the price of a condo in Minneapolis for strippers, or drive to Chicago in the middle of night, it's all relative. There were three other men, but they all drank). Now, McCormick is from Missouri. Yes, the same state my wife is from, and the same state where we went to college (also the strip clubs in Missouri are actually across the river in Illinois...but that's another story). He has three kids and is married. Oh, and his salary? Around $700,000 a year, so this Amex bill is about 1/3 of what he makes. No wonder he looks like a deer in headlights.
American Express is suing him and the Savvis company for the money. You see, he felt the charges were, "padded," so he didn't pay. That's a hell of a bill to miss. With 18.4% interest...ouch! So the question becomes this: did McCormick know what he was doing? The spokesman for Scores says you don't talk to the customers about the money they're spending. Also, they can't provide an itemized bill of where the money went. If it was all on a credit card, how do they not know where the money went? Did they just say, "Hmm. Charge him $10,000, and we'll just divy it up." Scores also has other lawsuits against that say roughly the same thing: The bills were padded.
Of course, on the other hand, there's the question of McCormick's sobriety at the time. Maybe he wasn't drunk, just excited about closing a billion (yes, with a b) dollar deal. Maybe he didn't have a single drink, but hoped that some of his companions (there were four guys in total) would pick up some of the bill. That would mean each guy would have a little over $60,000 to pay, or roughly what it would cost to go to the University of Minnesota (as an in-state student) for 4 years.
Personally, this story just saddens me. A great deal of people are dealing with money issues. This guy thought he only blew $20,000 on strippers. $20,000! That's only $10,000 less than the starting salary for teachers in about 20 states. Excess spending...seems to be the thing that America does the best nowadays.
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Dead Men Get No Parking Tickets:
An Australian Traffic cop noticed a car was parked illegally and decided to slap on a parking ticket. He walked around the car, got the tags, wrote up the ticket, and walked off. Here's the problem. There was a guy in the passenger seat, and he was dead. Reported missing only 9 days earlier, the 71 year old man apparently died in the car. The cop, who may have been in a rush, or may just not have really noticed, missed the dead guy in the driver's seat. Now, I bring up this story, because I noticed that many people have stopped observing the world around them. When I was in college, the Psychology department ran an experiment where they have students stand out in crowds and hold up random signs with instructions. For example, one sign read, "If you are reading this, shout, 'Great sign!' out loud." Next to the person holding the sign were two other students who would tick off how many people looked, how many people didn't, and how many people did what the sign said. Now it sounds odd, but it was an interesting experiment. The final tally said that most people didn't notice the sign. If they did, they didn't follow the
instructions. What does that say about us? There's an urban legend that a man died in a subway car in Los Angeles, and no one noticed. I believe we're starting to become more and more introverted to the world. Instead of seeing each other, and the world around us, we only see our little space.
On another note, you have to feel bad for the person in the chicken suit or any one of those costumes (even mascots) who have to be out in the blazing sun. They're paid pretty much nothing, get yelled at by pretty much everyone, and, if you're a mascot, more often than not you're attacked by the opposing team and beaten. Sounds like fun doesn't it? Hello? Anyone? That's what I thought. I remember the guy at my high school got tackled by one opposing team's cheerleaders Those gals slapped him around. It was tough for him. He was made fun of for the rest of the year.
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Lawyer Dead...No One Bats an Eye:
One of the defense lawyers for Saddam Hussein is dead. That was quick. Seriously. He was shot and dumped behind a mosque. Apparently people aren't happy about this new November court date, still, as Stephen Colbert put it, that's Sweeps time on TV.
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Smile, You've Just Been Booked:
This is hysterical. Now, I'm not going to do a political rant here, but really like the fact that for his mugshot, Tom DeLay smiled. I think that's just plain funny. Everybody at the DMV for license pictures almost never smiles. Anybody who is arrested never smiles. You're not happy about the fact that you've been taken in by the Po-Po. It's not a "happy" thing. Yet, here's DeLay smiling as if he was having his picture taken for "Government Official of the Year." One commentator said, "He's smiling, because he's white and rich and will get off." I don't think that's what it is. I think he's smiling, because this experience is funny to him.
And finally....
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Rules to Live By:
I recently discovered that a former student of mine posted some advice I gave her. Honestly, I was kind of shocked, but apparently she "liked what I had to say." So, I end this rambling by giving you the advice I gave her. You can decide for yourself if you like/hate/don't understand. whatever this advice.
Leab's Laws of Life (for his former student)
1. Adapt. Either fit into the situation, or make the situation fit you. Don't sulk or bitch. Just react.
2. Realize that the situation is hopeless, but not serious.
3. Don't panic.
4. When upset, take three deep breaths. This slows the heart rate and clears the mind.
5. Realize that life is incredibly short. If a yardstick represents the history of the universe, we are the last millimeter on that stick. Our lives are as short as a blink on our phones. If you sit around and mope and think woe is me all the time, life is going to pass you by.
6. Don't listen to anyone who tells you that right now is the best time of your life. Life gets so much better as time progresses.
Feel free to discuss.
Well, anyway, without furthur ado: NOT MY HAND! (seriously, do any of you know any of these?)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lap it up:
Look at this man. Beyond just his utterly off appearance, this man managed to spend, according to the NY Daily News story, $241,000 on strippers and such at the famous Scores club in NY. Let's start with the club. Scores is like an even more upscale version of Sheiks here in Minneapolis. If you're a celebrity (be it Queen Latifah, a wrestler, David Beckham, or even Brad Pitt), you head to Scores for all your stripping needs. Now, company men also head to Scores (as is evident by this story), but most are smart enough to either take someone to help them (such as a sobber buddy. This is a person who doesn't drink and then makes sure you don't do anything stupid....You know, like pay the price of a condo in Minneapolis for strippers, or drive to Chicago in the middle of night, it's all relative. There were three other men, but they all drank). Now, McCormick is from Missouri. Yes, the same state my wife is from, and the same state where we went to college (also the strip clubs in Missouri are actually across the river in Illinois...but that's another story). He has three kids and is married. Oh, and his salary? Around $700,000 a year, so this Amex bill is about 1/3 of what he makes. No wonder he looks like a deer in headlights.American Express is suing him and the Savvis company for the money. You see, he felt the charges were, "padded," so he didn't pay. That's a hell of a bill to miss. With 18.4% interest...ouch! So the question becomes this: did McCormick know what he was doing? The spokesman for Scores says you don't talk to the customers about the money they're spending. Also, they can't provide an itemized bill of where the money went. If it was all on a credit card, how do they not know where the money went? Did they just say, "Hmm. Charge him $10,000, and we'll just divy it up." Scores also has other lawsuits against that say roughly the same thing: The bills were padded.
Of course, on the other hand, there's the question of McCormick's sobriety at the time. Maybe he wasn't drunk, just excited about closing a billion (yes, with a b) dollar deal. Maybe he didn't have a single drink, but hoped that some of his companions (there were four guys in total) would pick up some of the bill. That would mean each guy would have a little over $60,000 to pay, or roughly what it would cost to go to the University of Minnesota (as an in-state student) for 4 years.
Personally, this story just saddens me. A great deal of people are dealing with money issues. This guy thought he only blew $20,000 on strippers. $20,000! That's only $10,000 less than the starting salary for teachers in about 20 states. Excess spending...seems to be the thing that America does the best nowadays.
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Dead Men Get No Parking Tickets:
An Australian Traffic cop noticed a car was parked illegally and decided to slap on a parking ticket. He walked around the car, got the tags, wrote up the ticket, and walked off. Here's the problem. There was a guy in the passenger seat, and he was dead. Reported missing only 9 days earlier, the 71 year old man apparently died in the car. The cop, who may have been in a rush, or may just not have really noticed, missed the dead guy in the driver's seat. Now, I bring up this story, because I noticed that many people have stopped observing the world around them. When I was in college, the Psychology department ran an experiment where they have students stand out in crowds and hold up random signs with instructions. For example, one sign read, "If you are reading this, shout, 'Great sign!' out loud." Next to the person holding the sign were two other students who would tick off how many people looked, how many people didn't, and how many people did what the sign said. Now it sounds odd, but it was an interesting experiment. The final tally said that most people didn't notice the sign. If they did, they didn't follow the
instructions. What does that say about us? There's an urban legend that a man died in a subway car in Los Angeles, and no one noticed. I believe we're starting to become more and more introverted to the world. Instead of seeing each other, and the world around us, we only see our little space.On another note, you have to feel bad for the person in the chicken suit or any one of those costumes (even mascots) who have to be out in the blazing sun. They're paid pretty much nothing, get yelled at by pretty much everyone, and, if you're a mascot, more often than not you're attacked by the opposing team and beaten. Sounds like fun doesn't it? Hello? Anyone? That's what I thought. I remember the guy at my high school got tackled by one opposing team's cheerleaders Those gals slapped him around. It was tough for him. He was made fun of for the rest of the year.
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Lawyer Dead...No One Bats an Eye:
One of the defense lawyers for Saddam Hussein is dead. That was quick. Seriously. He was shot and dumped behind a mosque. Apparently people aren't happy about this new November court date, still, as Stephen Colbert put it, that's Sweeps time on TV.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Smile, You've Just Been Booked:
This is hysterical. Now, I'm not going to do a political rant here, but really like the fact that for his mugshot, Tom DeLay smiled. I think that's just plain funny. Everybody at the DMV for license pictures almost never smiles. Anybody who is arrested never smiles. You're not happy about the fact that you've been taken in by the Po-Po. It's not a "happy" thing. Yet, here's DeLay smiling as if he was having his picture taken for "Government Official of the Year." One commentator said, "He's smiling, because he's white and rich and will get off." I don't think that's what it is. I think he's smiling, because this experience is funny to him.
And finally....
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Rules to Live By:
I recently discovered that a former student of mine posted some advice I gave her. Honestly, I was kind of shocked, but apparently she "liked what I had to say." So, I end this rambling by giving you the advice I gave her. You can decide for yourself if you like/hate/don't understand. whatever this advice.
Leab's Laws of Life (for his former student)
1. Adapt. Either fit into the situation, or make the situation fit you. Don't sulk or bitch. Just react.
2. Realize that the situation is hopeless, but not serious.
3. Don't panic.
4. When upset, take three deep breaths. This slows the heart rate and clears the mind.
5. Realize that life is incredibly short. If a yardstick represents the history of the universe, we are the last millimeter on that stick. Our lives are as short as a blink on our phones. If you sit around and mope and think woe is me all the time, life is going to pass you by.
6. Don't listen to anyone who tells you that right now is the best time of your life. Life gets so much better as time progresses.
Feel free to discuss.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Kicked When You're Down
I ran into one of my neighbors while I was out last night. He told me that Ed (the old guy across the street who yelled at his dog) died in the hospital. Talk about being kicked when you're down. Sure, he was old. Sure, he couldn't handle his dog and liked to yell at her, but he was a nice guy when you talked to him. When I first met Ed, I was cleaning my yard, and he was struggling with a heavy bag. I offered to help him, and he was quite grateful. I ended up hearing about when he was in the Navy as well as about his wife, his previous dogs and more.
People who didn't really know Ed were afraid of him, because he liked to yell, but he was gentle person.
Daisy, his dog, has gone to live with his grandson (which will be better for her. He apparently has more room). It's not clear yet what will be done with Ed's place. I'm hoping the new neighbors will be nice.
Goodbye Ed. Thank you for being so kind when I first moved here.
Oh, and today is the one year anniversary of when the two students tried to "fork" my lawn. No one came by last night (as far as I know).
Wild Vs. Sharks (10/19/05)
This was the last game of the recent Wild homestand. You know, it's been interesting to hear people talk about the Wild on the national sports shows. Many believe that, "it's only been six or seven games. They won't stay this good." Still others think, "This is all smoke and mirrors." Whatever the case may be, the Wild were in fine form last night against a 
tough opponent: The San Jose Sharks. Though in 3rd place in the Pacific division, this is a team that is built for the long haul. Still, the Wild have been rolling. This was evident last night. 
For the first time, the Wild started slow. With all of the scoring this team has done, the crowd was anxious that the Wild weren't really pressing harder. This could be because the team has new lines. With Marion Gaborik back, players had to be shifted around. Gaborik showed that he hadn't really lost a step. Sure, he was rusty at first. During one odd man rush, Gaborik was a little hasty and stepped into the offensive zone before Walz brought the puck in. Fans, who were wanting to see Gaborik's speed were not disappointed.
After 15 minutes of back and forth, the Wild finally put the first tally on the board. Gaborik, showing why he is the fastest player on the Wild, fired off a nifty pass to Willie Mitchell, who slammed the puck home for the first goal.
As the first period ended, many fans believed the game was already over. "This is what they do," one guy yelled. "We RULE!" Still, the Wild had only 6 shots, while the Sharks had 12. Manny Fernandez, playing in goal again, was fantastic. This was no more evident than during the opening of the second period.
While on the power play, the Sharks charged in and pinged the puck off the goal post. Fernandez did everything but use breakdance moves to keep the puck out. The Wild seemed to be totally outplayed this period. Once again the Wild were outshot 10-12. And it was in this period the Sharks would tie the game. Niko Dimitrakos deflected the puck off of Andrei Zyuzin's skate. How could anyone expect the goalie to stop that? The period ended with the score tied at 1. It was during this break that the fans who were so overly confident were now quieting down. "Um....They'll be fine...yeah...fine," said the same guy who only one period before was screaming about the team's dominance.
When the Wild took the ice for the third period, it was obvious that Jacques Lemaire had spent the break screaming at them. They were moving quicker, grinding it out, and hitting hard. Just 2 minutes in, Derek Boogaard, the team's new Matt Johnson (if you've been a fan since the beginning, that makes sense), scored his first goal. Boogaard is huge. He's 6-7 for cripes sake. Most players aren't above 6'0" tall. Only a few minutes later, the flood gates would open. First, Chouinard scored a short-handed goal. Now giving up a goal is embarassing, but giving up a short-handed goal is down right shameful. For the uninitiated, a team is short-handed when the other team is on a power play. The team on the power play is supposed to score, not the penalty killing team. A short-handed goal means the team on the power play is playing sloppy. This was the case.
The Wild would score three more goals in the third period. Pierre Marc-Bouchard, Todd White, and Filip Kuba would all tally goals. The highlight of the period, however, would be Boogaard. He got his first goal, and at ten minutes, he and Rob Davison would drop the gloves and do the dance. Davison had no chance. Boogaard is bigger and has a longer reach. It looked a great deal like Mike Tyson and Peter McBride. Remember McBride? He was the guy who lasted about two minutes. It was like that, but on skates. In the end, the Wild had won 6-1, the crowd had their goal- and blood-thirst satiated, and everyone (but the Sharks) was happy.
Unfortunately, there weren't too many off-ice moments.
Tonight's "Let's Play Hockey" guest was George Gwozdecky. He's the coach of the University of Denver hockey team. The crowd, obviously largely made up of Gopher fans, was none too thrilled.
Boogaard got the second star of the game and was given louder cheers than Fernandez, who received the first.
No really stupid comments or anything from the fans tonight. However, someone did mention a shutout for Fernandez in-between the first and second period. What happens? No shutout. It's proven, kids.
The Wild are out of town until Tuesday, so no games for me.
5 down, 36 to go.
tough opponent: The San Jose Sharks. Though in 3rd place in the Pacific division, this is a team that is built for the long haul. Still, the Wild have been rolling. This was evident last night. 
For the first time, the Wild started slow. With all of the scoring this team has done, the crowd was anxious that the Wild weren't really pressing harder. This could be because the team has new lines. With Marion Gaborik back, players had to be shifted around. Gaborik showed that he hadn't really lost a step. Sure, he was rusty at first. During one odd man rush, Gaborik was a little hasty and stepped into the offensive zone before Walz brought the puck in. Fans, who were wanting to see Gaborik's speed were not disappointed.
After 15 minutes of back and forth, the Wild finally put the first tally on the board. Gaborik, showing why he is the fastest player on the Wild, fired off a nifty pass to Willie Mitchell, who slammed the puck home for the first goal.
As the first period ended, many fans believed the game was already over. "This is what they do," one guy yelled. "We RULE!" Still, the Wild had only 6 shots, while the Sharks had 12. Manny Fernandez, playing in goal again, was fantastic. This was no more evident than during the opening of the second period.
While on the power play, the Sharks charged in and pinged the puck off the goal post. Fernandez did everything but use breakdance moves to keep the puck out. The Wild seemed to be totally outplayed this period. Once again the Wild were outshot 10-12. And it was in this period the Sharks would tie the game. Niko Dimitrakos deflected the puck off of Andrei Zyuzin's skate. How could anyone expect the goalie to stop that? The period ended with the score tied at 1. It was during this break that the fans who were so overly confident were now quieting down. "Um....They'll be fine...yeah...fine," said the same guy who only one period before was screaming about the team's dominance.
When the Wild took the ice for the third period, it was obvious that Jacques Lemaire had spent the break screaming at them. They were moving quicker, grinding it out, and hitting hard. Just 2 minutes in, Derek Boogaard, the team's new Matt Johnson (if you've been a fan since the beginning, that makes sense), scored his first goal. Boogaard is huge. He's 6-7 for cripes sake. Most players aren't above 6'0" tall. Only a few minutes later, the flood gates would open. First, Chouinard scored a short-handed goal. Now giving up a goal is embarassing, but giving up a short-handed goal is down right shameful. For the uninitiated, a team is short-handed when the other team is on a power play. The team on the power play is supposed to score, not the penalty killing team. A short-handed goal means the team on the power play is playing sloppy. This was the case.
The Wild would score three more goals in the third period. Pierre Marc-Bouchard, Todd White, and Filip Kuba would all tally goals. The highlight of the period, however, would be Boogaard. He got his first goal, and at ten minutes, he and Rob Davison would drop the gloves and do the dance. Davison had no chance. Boogaard is bigger and has a longer reach. It looked a great deal like Mike Tyson and Peter McBride. Remember McBride? He was the guy who lasted about two minutes. It was like that, but on skates. In the end, the Wild had won 6-1, the crowd had their goal- and blood-thirst satiated, and everyone (but the Sharks) was happy.
Unfortunately, there weren't too many off-ice moments.
Tonight's "Let's Play Hockey" guest was George Gwozdecky. He's the coach of the University of Denver hockey team. The crowd, obviously largely made up of Gopher fans, was none too thrilled.
Boogaard got the second star of the game and was given louder cheers than Fernandez, who received the first.
No really stupid comments or anything from the fans tonight. However, someone did mention a shutout for Fernandez in-between the first and second period. What happens? No shutout. It's proven, kids.
The Wild are out of town until Tuesday, so no games for me.
5 down, 36 to go.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Ramblings for the Afternoon (10/19/05)
I took the day off. Partially for sanity, but really because I had to get blood work done at the hospital. I HATE the hospital, but we'll get to that.
So, without further ado (and keeping with the recent theme): LET'S GET PISSED!
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I HATE the hospital:
I've talked about this in a previous post. I really don't like hospitals or doctors. They're depressing and, due to ever changing insurance issues, most are losing that wonderful bed side manner. (Please note the sarcasm.) Now, I had to go and have blood drawn today in order to have it analyzed (the why is not important). So, armed with a form and an appointment, I headed to my clinic here in Robbinsdale.
The thing about this clinic is that if you have to wait (and inevitably you will...trust me), you will observe humanity at its best and (more likely) worst. Let me take you through my few hours (yes, I said hours...2 to be exact) at the clinic to enlighten.
I arrived to find a line at the check-in counter. There were six people in front of me and nine people sitting in the waiting area. Almost everyone was older and waiting for flu shots. As we stood in line, a man in a motorized scooter pulled up to the doors. A sign told him that the Handicap button wasn't working. He was alone. I turned to see NO ONE helping him. Not a single person moved to help this guy. So, I stepped out of line and opened the door for him and held it. After a quick, "Thank you," he sped off to another part of the clinic.
When I tried to step back to where I was, the people who had been behind me told me to, "go to the back of the line." What does this tell us about humanity right now? Are we so utterly afraid of getting "The Bird Flu" that we can't spare a second to help someone? And if we go out of our way to help, people won't recognize it? I did what I was told. I made a comment about, "How wonderful it is to see Americans helping each other with little or no selfishness," but the irony (and the comment) pretty much fell on (possibly literally) deaf ears.
Once through the check-in line, I sit and wait. Some women play with their children, some people read, and one couple decides to have a very vocal fight about (and I'm not kidding) the cable bill. The entire waiting area learns that the older gentleman apparently ordered a porn flick. You don't want to watch. This is a private matter, and yet how do you not listen when they are screaming only feet from you? The best moment, however, was a woman who came in with her stroller, sat down, looked over at me, cocked her head like a puppy, and then got up, and walked over to a new seat on the other side of the room from me. There wasn't more room, just women in the other seats.
As I waited, I watched the same man on the motorized scooter try to leave. Again, no one helped him. How could no one move? He kept trying to open the door himself, but he couldn't. Once again, I helped him. What surprised me was his answer this time. He stopped, looked up at me, and said, "Thanks. Most people won't come near me. I'm surprised you did. Thanks for not ignoring me." What does that say about us? He's handicapped and ignored. What a wonderful world we live in at present.
After what felt like an eternity, I was called in by a nurse in order to have my blood drawn. Once again, my luck, as it were, continued. I met Tara, the nurse, who introduced me to Nancy, who would be taking my blood. Nancy, though she had a sweet face, had a look of uneasiness. Why? She's a nurse in training. That's right, I would be having my blood taken by a lady who had only done this...once before. Yee-haw...let the good times roll! Again, a very sweet girl, but a little unsure of herself. She tapped my arm a few times and then decided on outside vein. This vein had never been tapped before...EVER. So, she took a deep breath, counted to 3, and jammed the needle in to the vein. At first, no problem, the needle was in and the blood was flowing. Now, they have to take two cultures, which means she has to switch vials. Normally, no problem. For me (and it's always me), there's a problem. You see, when she went to switch the vials, she pushed the second one in too hard, and the needle went further into my arm. Tara, who had been watching this, starts saying, "Whoa! Nancy! Not so hard. Relax. Back it up a bit." I, on the other hand, am trying not to show the pain that I am now feeling (It's the macho, retrosexual male in me). When we're done, Nancy looks at me and says, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" As compared to what? Having my toenails pulled out?
With a bandage on my arm, I left the hospital with pain going up and down my arm (not good) and feeling annoyed at the way people treat each other. I watched in horror as one woman pushed another out of the way to try and get her flu shot first. Does one minute make that much of a difference? Have we really fallen prey to the fears that media portray? "Get your shot now, or you'll DIE!" Fear makes us turn from civilized to primal. That's why fear is a great weapon. Oh and I still hate hospitals.
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How about a jump?
On my way back from the hospital, I stopped at a grocery store to grab a few things. Pulling in, I noticed a woman with the hood of her car up, and asking people for help. Every single person she asked either ignored her, or told her they couldn't help. Now, I do suffer from the White Knight Syndrome. Most men do. They want to ride in, save the day, and ride out. Any man who denies this is probably lying.
With that in mind, I went over to see if I could help. Turns out her car won't start. Hey, I have jumper cables in my car, and having driven to the store, obviously it works, so I offer to help. She was ecstatic. Every person who had come before me had blown her off. One guy told her to (and I quote), "Fuck off," and one gal said she would help if she had the cables. Well, this stranded woman actually had cables and told this gal, "I have the cables." The gal, was silent for a moment, and just said, "Well, that's nice. Good luck." How horrible is that?
So, I move my car over, set up the cables, and she tries it. We hear a clunking. It's not the battery. Her car radio is working, so she has power, but the car still won't start.
This woman (Brenda) is upset. She's on the verge of tears. I reassured her and asked her if there's anyone she can call. "I don't have my phone," she tells me. "My husband has it." So, I pull out my phone and tell her to call him. Then to call her mechanic. If you judged me from the look on her face, you would think I was insane. Here's this guy from out of the blue, and he's tried to help, and he's offering up his phone so you can make calls. In the modern world, this doesn't happen as much as you think. It's sad really. Much like at the hospital, modern society has become more introverted. We talk, but only via electronic communication. No longer do we look at each other in the eye and talk. Very rarely do we actually help each other. Look at Hurricane Katrina. At first, we were all united and giving. Two weeks later, we're sick of hearing about New Orleans. Maybe not everybody, but a great deal of people have moved on to the next thing. Let's see what happens with Wilma.
Back the story, however. I waited. I told her to get in my car (as I had heat), and we waited until the mechanic showed up. When he came, I left. I took of to finish my other errands. She offered me money for helping her, which I thought was so weird. I told her it's not about money. It's about helping each other. "The next time someone is in trouble, help them. Take that money and give it to a homeless guy." Again, that puppy look came out again. I could tell she thought I was either nuts or playing an angle. I nodded, told the mechanic to check the alternator, and I left. I noticed she watched me leave. She was probably wondering who the hell I was.
And finally....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
More Hockey (Get over it Worm!)
Yeah, there's a game tonight. The Wild will be playing against the San Jose Sharks, and, yes, I will be talking about it.
A former student has asked me to post about a story she heard me talking about, so I will be talking about it later.
Also, I will once again open up the Smurf Post for anyone who wants to comment on it (read the part with the poster).
Have a peachy day.
So, without further ado (and keeping with the recent theme): LET'S GET PISSED!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I HATE the hospital:
I've talked about this in a previous post. I really don't like hospitals or doctors. They're depressing and, due to ever changing insurance issues, most are losing that wonderful bed side manner. (Please note the sarcasm.) Now, I had to go and have blood drawn today in order to have it analyzed (the why is not important). So, armed with a form and an appointment, I headed to my clinic here in Robbinsdale.
The thing about this clinic is that if you have to wait (and inevitably you will...trust me), you will observe humanity at its best and (more likely) worst. Let me take you through my few hours (yes, I said hours...2 to be exact) at the clinic to enlighten.
I arrived to find a line at the check-in counter. There were six people in front of me and nine people sitting in the waiting area. Almost everyone was older and waiting for flu shots. As we stood in line, a man in a motorized scooter pulled up to the doors. A sign told him that the Handicap button wasn't working. He was alone. I turned to see NO ONE helping him. Not a single person moved to help this guy. So, I stepped out of line and opened the door for him and held it. After a quick, "Thank you," he sped off to another part of the clinic.
When I tried to step back to where I was, the people who had been behind me told me to, "go to the back of the line." What does this tell us about humanity right now? Are we so utterly afraid of getting "The Bird Flu" that we can't spare a second to help someone? And if we go out of our way to help, people won't recognize it? I did what I was told. I made a comment about, "How wonderful it is to see Americans helping each other with little or no selfishness," but the irony (and the comment) pretty much fell on (possibly literally) deaf ears.Once through the check-in line, I sit and wait. Some women play with their children, some people read, and one couple decides to have a very vocal fight about (and I'm not kidding) the cable bill. The entire waiting area learns that the older gentleman apparently ordered a porn flick. You don't want to watch. This is a private matter, and yet how do you not listen when they are screaming only feet from you? The best moment, however, was a woman who came in with her stroller, sat down, looked over at me, cocked her head like a puppy, and then got up, and walked over to a new seat on the other side of the room from me. There wasn't more room, just women in the other seats.
As I waited, I watched the same man on the motorized scooter try to leave. Again, no one helped him. How could no one move? He kept trying to open the door himself, but he couldn't. Once again, I helped him. What surprised me was his answer this time. He stopped, looked up at me, and said, "Thanks. Most people won't come near me. I'm surprised you did. Thanks for not ignoring me." What does that say about us? He's handicapped and ignored. What a wonderful world we live in at present.
After what felt like an eternity, I was called in by a nurse in order to have my blood drawn. Once again, my luck, as it were, continued. I met Tara, the nurse, who introduced me to Nancy, who would be taking my blood. Nancy, though she had a sweet face, had a look of uneasiness. Why? She's a nurse in training. That's right, I would be having my blood taken by a lady who had only done this...once before. Yee-haw...let the good times roll! Again, a very sweet girl, but a little unsure of herself. She tapped my arm a few times and then decided on outside vein. This vein had never been tapped before...EVER. So, she took a deep breath, counted to 3, and jammed the needle in to the vein. At first, no problem, the needle was in and the blood was flowing. Now, they have to take two cultures, which means she has to switch vials. Normally, no problem. For me (and it's always me), there's a problem. You see, when she went to switch the vials, she pushed the second one in too hard, and the needle went further into my arm. Tara, who had been watching this, starts saying, "Whoa! Nancy! Not so hard. Relax. Back it up a bit." I, on the other hand, am trying not to show the pain that I am now feeling (It's the macho, retrosexual male in me). When we're done, Nancy looks at me and says, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" As compared to what? Having my toenails pulled out?
With a bandage on my arm, I left the hospital with pain going up and down my arm (not good) and feeling annoyed at the way people treat each other. I watched in horror as one woman pushed another out of the way to try and get her flu shot first. Does one minute make that much of a difference? Have we really fallen prey to the fears that media portray? "Get your shot now, or you'll DIE!" Fear makes us turn from civilized to primal. That's why fear is a great weapon. Oh and I still hate hospitals.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How about a jump?
On my way back from the hospital, I stopped at a grocery store to grab a few things. Pulling in, I noticed a woman with the hood of her car up, and asking people for help. Every single person she asked either ignored her, or told her they couldn't help. Now, I do suffer from the White Knight Syndrome. Most men do. They want to ride in, save the day, and ride out. Any man who denies this is probably lying.
With that in mind, I went over to see if I could help. Turns out her car won't start. Hey, I have jumper cables in my car, and having driven to the store, obviously it works, so I offer to help. She was ecstatic. Every person who had come before me had blown her off. One guy told her to (and I quote), "Fuck off," and one gal said she would help if she had the cables. Well, this stranded woman actually had cables and told this gal, "I have the cables." The gal, was silent for a moment, and just said, "Well, that's nice. Good luck." How horrible is that?
So, I move my car over, set up the cables, and she tries it. We hear a clunking. It's not the battery. Her car radio is working, so she has power, but the car still won't start.
This woman (Brenda) is upset. She's on the verge of tears. I reassured her and asked her if there's anyone she can call. "I don't have my phone," she tells me. "My husband has it." So, I pull out my phone and tell her to call him. Then to call her mechanic. If you judged me from the look on her face, you would think I was insane. Here's this guy from out of the blue, and he's tried to help, and he's offering up his phone so you can make calls. In the modern world, this doesn't happen as much as you think. It's sad really. Much like at the hospital, modern society has become more introverted. We talk, but only via electronic communication. No longer do we look at each other in the eye and talk. Very rarely do we actually help each other. Look at Hurricane Katrina. At first, we were all united and giving. Two weeks later, we're sick of hearing about New Orleans. Maybe not everybody, but a great deal of people have moved on to the next thing. Let's see what happens with Wilma.
Back the story, however. I waited. I told her to get in my car (as I had heat), and we waited until the mechanic showed up. When he came, I left. I took of to finish my other errands. She offered me money for helping her, which I thought was so weird. I told her it's not about money. It's about helping each other. "The next time someone is in trouble, help them. Take that money and give it to a homeless guy." Again, that puppy look came out again. I could tell she thought I was either nuts or playing an angle. I nodded, told the mechanic to check the alternator, and I left. I noticed she watched me leave. She was probably wondering who the hell I was.
And finally....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
More Hockey (Get over it Worm!)
Yeah, there's a game tonight. The Wild will be playing against the San Jose Sharks, and, yes, I will be talking about it.
A former student has asked me to post about a story she heard me talking about, so I will be talking about it later.
Also, I will once again open up the Smurf Post for anyone who wants to comment on it (read the part with the poster).
Have a peachy day.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Cooling Off
I had a post. Blogger lost it.
I'm still angry.
Not sure yet how I'm going to dial it back. I've tried some of the things that used to cool me down, but they aren't working.
I'm still frustrated.
I still can't sleep.
They say the Snake gets all the lines. So why do I feel so empty-headed?
MEA is this week. Maybe I just need time.
Damn.
I'm still angry.
Not sure yet how I'm going to dial it back. I've tried some of the things that used to cool me down, but they aren't working.
I'm still frustrated.
I still can't sleep.
They say the Snake gets all the lines. So why do I feel so empty-headed?
MEA is this week. Maybe I just need time.
Damn.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Anger and Arnold
It's a tough thing to realize.
I'm angry almost all the time now.
Why?
I feel like people are turning into sheep. No one thinks about anything anymore, they just hear it, accept it, and move on. I know not everyone is that way, but a majority of people are. I had a conversation with a class last week about questioning authority. Yes, I am a teacher, but I believe that students have to question. In order to better learn, they MUST question those who came before them.
I worry that they won't do this, or they won't do it correctly. There's a difference between having an informed opinion and just parroting what someone else said (such as a parent or celebrity).
I worry because one day I will be a father, and I don't want my child growing up in an Orwellian world. Sure, people (heck, even me sometimes) say we're there, but we aren't totally yet. I can question my government and not be arrested (all the time).
I'm angry, because I can't really talk to anyone about the way I feel. Most people just think that I'm overly philosophical or just plain crazy. "Who cares if no one thinks anymore? Doesn't that mean the world will run smoother?" Sure, Ignorance is bliss.
I'm angry, because I can't sleep through the night anymore, and I refuse to take a drug or anything. Honestly, I don't think it would help. I am a very light sleeper, thus when my cat drops his toy on the living room floor (one floor below me) I wake up. It's terrible. My sister thinks my chi is out of balance. I don't know.
When I can't sleep, I do things to occupy my mind. Sometimes it's reading, sometimes it's a puzzle or even cleaning, but sometimes it's watching TV.
A few nights ago, the Arnold Schwarzenegger film, The Running Man, was on late night cable. I honestly hadn't seen it since 1993 (though it came out in 1987).
What's amazing about the film is even though it came out almost 20 years ago, it actually showed where this country would go and may still go.
For those of you who haven't seen the film, this is the plot:
In the year 2017, the world's resources dried up. With nothing left, the governments of the world united to keep everyone under rule. The laws are simple and enforced with an iron fist. There's only one TV station, and it's programming is mostly reality television. The most popular show is
"The Running Man" which has criminals trying to escape "Stalkers" in order to win freedom. It's the only form of entertainment. All other art is censored and banned.
Ben Richards (Arnie) is a former cop put in jail for not following orders during a food riot. After escaping from prison (along with some friends in "The Resistance), Arnie lays low, but is soon caught and given a choice: Either go on the show, or watch your friends do it and die. What choice does he have?
The host of the show, Killian (played by Richard Dawson in a role not to far from real life for him) double-crosses Richards and sends him and his friends into the "Game Zone."
Long story short, Arnie's pals die, he makes it to The Resistance and then broadcasts the truth about the game and life to the world. The film ends with Richards killing Killian using the rocket chairs that send the players into the Game Zone.
Now I know what you're thinking: "An Arnold Schwarzenegger film has insight into our world? You're nuts!"
Let's look at some of the aspects of the film:
Someone controls what you see and hear. Well, that's true. Look beyond, "If it bleeds, it leads," and you will see that our news stations talk about Iraq with music behind it and mass amounts of flippant remarks. It almost desensitizes the viewer.
The same can be said about Reality TV. Are we that far from a show called, "The Most Dangerous Game!" Ted Nugent leads five contestants on a hunt for a homeless man in the backwoods of West Virginia. Who will kill..."The Most Dangerous Game!"
Now all through the film, the host and directors of the show try to down play the fact that Richards is able to kill the Stalkers. They even try to turn him onto their side for ratings. Mark Burnett, the producer of Survivor apparently tells his camera crew, if the person is drowning, film it till the last second, then get someone to try and save them. THAT will sell. The sad part is he's absolutely right. Most of America would watch that. We watch and discuss, because it's not us.
To me, the most fascinating aspect of the audience in the film is how they cheer for the contestants' deaths, but are silent when the Stalkers die. Aren't we the same way? We cheer when the Nazi/Terrorist/bad guy dies in the film or even real life, but when the American/British/Counterterrorist/good guy gets killed, we mourn. Shouldn't all death be sad? Shouldn't we mourn for everyone? Networks use music, light, and every other trick to draw the viewer into that emotion. The Running Man shows this as well. As the show is winding down, they have sad music playing as they remember, "The fallen gladiators. The brave patriots."
The film plays on the Orwellian idea that there's no such thing as a utopia. Rather only distopia. If you get a chance, watch it with that in mind.
Is it a perfect film? Not by any means. This is a film where Mick Fleetwood (yes, THAT Mick Fleetwood) plays the leader of the resistance. You expect him to start banging on drums at any minute.
Richard Dawson chews the scenery, but he also spoofs his own popularity as the host of Family Feud. This was a man who was a little too touchy-feely and a little too-much of a know it all. Anyone who finds him annoying gets their revenge here.
Back to the subject at hand, however.
I'm angry, because I feel like we are slowly but surely turning into those audience members. They tell us, "Boo," and we scream. No questions asked. Is this a recent development? Oh hell no! This has gone on for a long time, but with TV becoming the main medium (say what you will, but more people watch TV than ANYTHING else now), it's becoming easier to control.
I will end with this. I know I have been picking on Christians alot lately. I'm sorry. I work with a few hardcore Christians who like to tell me everyday that I will burn in hell and that God hates me. He might. Who knows? I also have found that in my life, only Christians, not any other religion, have attacked my life choices and friends' life choices. Very vocally. Does this speak for all Christians? Of course not, but where are the ones who step up and say, "Hey that man's choice is his?" and why aren't they around to stop those who aren't acting nicely?
I'm sorry that I have pushed so much, but I'm not sorry for everything I have said. Some of it is true.
Maybe I've turned into the old Worm. Maybe I need to just stop and walk away and say screw it, because the world's not getting better in my view. It's starting to hurt to see how much my students are going to be burdened with, to see how much my child or my neice will be burdened with in the future.
I'm angry, and people just listen to what I say and tell me I'm wrong, or Un-American, or a horrible person.
I'm angry, because the people who read my blog leave me no real feedback except for the negative. You want to know why I write about the hockey games? People respond to it in a positive manner. Hell, they just respond. No one gave me anything about the Smurf poster. Nothing. How can you not have an opinion? Everyone is now a pundit.
I'm angry, because I feel like I work my ass off in the classroom, on my blog, and in life and it gets me nowhere.
I'm angry, because I just don't see the point of it all anymore. The light at the end of the tunnel is the #4 train coming to hit me.
I'm angry, because in a world full of sheep, I feel like a goat.
I'm angry, and I just don't know how to stop it.
Of course what do I know? I'm just a meaningless speck on the window of the universe. I could be wrong.
I'm angry almost all the time now.
Why?
I feel like people are turning into sheep. No one thinks about anything anymore, they just hear it, accept it, and move on. I know not everyone is that way, but a majority of people are. I had a conversation with a class last week about questioning authority. Yes, I am a teacher, but I believe that students have to question. In order to better learn, they MUST question those who came before them.
I worry that they won't do this, or they won't do it correctly. There's a difference between having an informed opinion and just parroting what someone else said (such as a parent or celebrity).
I worry because one day I will be a father, and I don't want my child growing up in an Orwellian world. Sure, people (heck, even me sometimes) say we're there, but we aren't totally yet. I can question my government and not be arrested (all the time).
I'm angry, because I can't really talk to anyone about the way I feel. Most people just think that I'm overly philosophical or just plain crazy. "Who cares if no one thinks anymore? Doesn't that mean the world will run smoother?" Sure, Ignorance is bliss.
I'm angry, because I can't sleep through the night anymore, and I refuse to take a drug or anything. Honestly, I don't think it would help. I am a very light sleeper, thus when my cat drops his toy on the living room floor (one floor below me) I wake up. It's terrible. My sister thinks my chi is out of balance. I don't know.
When I can't sleep, I do things to occupy my mind. Sometimes it's reading, sometimes it's a puzzle or even cleaning, but sometimes it's watching TV.
A few nights ago, the Arnold Schwarzenegger film, The Running Man, was on late night cable. I honestly hadn't seen it since 1993 (though it came out in 1987).
What's amazing about the film is even though it came out almost 20 years ago, it actually showed where this country would go and may still go.
For those of you who haven't seen the film, this is the plot:
In the year 2017, the world's resources dried up. With nothing left, the governments of the world united to keep everyone under rule. The laws are simple and enforced with an iron fist. There's only one TV station, and it's programming is mostly reality television. The most popular show is
"The Running Man" which has criminals trying to escape "Stalkers" in order to win freedom. It's the only form of entertainment. All other art is censored and banned.Ben Richards (Arnie) is a former cop put in jail for not following orders during a food riot. After escaping from prison (along with some friends in "The Resistance), Arnie lays low, but is soon caught and given a choice: Either go on the show, or watch your friends do it and die. What choice does he have?
The host of the show, Killian (played by Richard Dawson in a role not to far from real life for him) double-crosses Richards and sends him and his friends into the "Game Zone."
Long story short, Arnie's pals die, he makes it to The Resistance and then broadcasts the truth about the game and life to the world. The film ends with Richards killing Killian using the rocket chairs that send the players into the Game Zone.
Now I know what you're thinking: "An Arnold Schwarzenegger film has insight into our world? You're nuts!"
Let's look at some of the aspects of the film:
Someone controls what you see and hear. Well, that's true. Look beyond, "If it bleeds, it leads," and you will see that our news stations talk about Iraq with music behind it and mass amounts of flippant remarks. It almost desensitizes the viewer.
The same can be said about Reality TV. Are we that far from a show called, "The Most Dangerous Game!" Ted Nugent leads five contestants on a hunt for a homeless man in the backwoods of West Virginia. Who will kill..."The Most Dangerous Game!"
Now all through the film, the host and directors of the show try to down play the fact that Richards is able to kill the Stalkers. They even try to turn him onto their side for ratings. Mark Burnett, the producer of Survivor apparently tells his camera crew, if the person is drowning, film it till the last second, then get someone to try and save them. THAT will sell. The sad part is he's absolutely right. Most of America would watch that. We watch and discuss, because it's not us.
To me, the most fascinating aspect of the audience in the film is how they cheer for the contestants' deaths, but are silent when the Stalkers die. Aren't we the same way? We cheer when the Nazi/Terrorist/bad guy dies in the film or even real life, but when the American/British/Counterterrorist/good guy gets killed, we mourn. Shouldn't all death be sad? Shouldn't we mourn for everyone? Networks use music, light, and every other trick to draw the viewer into that emotion. The Running Man shows this as well. As the show is winding down, they have sad music playing as they remember, "The fallen gladiators. The brave patriots."
The film plays on the Orwellian idea that there's no such thing as a utopia. Rather only distopia. If you get a chance, watch it with that in mind.
Is it a perfect film? Not by any means. This is a film where Mick Fleetwood (yes, THAT Mick Fleetwood) plays the leader of the resistance. You expect him to start banging on drums at any minute.
Richard Dawson chews the scenery, but he also spoofs his own popularity as the host of Family Feud. This was a man who was a little too touchy-feely and a little too-much of a know it all. Anyone who finds him annoying gets their revenge here.
Back to the subject at hand, however.
I'm angry, because I feel like we are slowly but surely turning into those audience members. They tell us, "Boo," and we scream. No questions asked. Is this a recent development? Oh hell no! This has gone on for a long time, but with TV becoming the main medium (say what you will, but more people watch TV than ANYTHING else now), it's becoming easier to control.
I will end with this. I know I have been picking on Christians alot lately. I'm sorry. I work with a few hardcore Christians who like to tell me everyday that I will burn in hell and that God hates me. He might. Who knows? I also have found that in my life, only Christians, not any other religion, have attacked my life choices and friends' life choices. Very vocally. Does this speak for all Christians? Of course not, but where are the ones who step up and say, "Hey that man's choice is his?" and why aren't they around to stop those who aren't acting nicely?
I'm sorry that I have pushed so much, but I'm not sorry for everything I have said. Some of it is true.
Maybe I've turned into the old Worm. Maybe I need to just stop and walk away and say screw it, because the world's not getting better in my view. It's starting to hurt to see how much my students are going to be burdened with, to see how much my child or my neice will be burdened with in the future.
I'm angry, and people just listen to what I say and tell me I'm wrong, or Un-American, or a horrible person.
I'm angry, because the people who read my blog leave me no real feedback except for the negative. You want to know why I write about the hockey games? People respond to it in a positive manner. Hell, they just respond. No one gave me anything about the Smurf poster. Nothing. How can you not have an opinion? Everyone is now a pundit.
I'm angry, because I feel like I work my ass off in the classroom, on my blog, and in life and it gets me nowhere.
I'm angry, because I just don't see the point of it all anymore. The light at the end of the tunnel is the #4 train coming to hit me.
I'm angry, because in a world full of sheep, I feel like a goat.
I'm angry, and I just don't know how to stop it.
Of course what do I know? I'm just a meaningless speck on the window of the universe. I could be wrong.
Mail Mondays (10/17/05)
Wow, so I got some intersting comments and emails this week. Some, I can use. Some...not so much.
So, let's get to those comments and mailings. (Remember, names are changed. )
I recently had a post on Ashley Smith and her (former?) drug habit. One astute reader commented by saying:
I remember they were mentioning Ashley Smith's problem with drugs, as though they were in the past in early stories. They also mentioned that she lost custody of her daughter due to her problems, right? So I wasn't all that shocked that she still had some around, but maybe that's just me. Do you think she should be arrested just to balance the scales of justice? Was being held hostage not enough?
Astute Reader
Here's the thing, A.R. It's not about the "balance" of justice. The problem I have is with your last statement. "Was being held hostage not enough?" Here's the thing: I truly feel bad that she was held hostage. Granted, for her trouble she received national attention, the thanks of the author of The Purpose Driven Life, and a big book deal. Now, here's the issue I have (and you may definitely feel free to disagree with me). If Smith had been a black woman, and she had been held hostage by a white man, and she had given him Crystal Meth, the country would have turned on her. It wouldn't have been, "Poor woman." No, they would have gone after her
character for having the drugs. "Was being held hostage not enough?" Let me ask you this: A man in Oregon had terminal cancer and was in a lot of pain. He smoked Marijuana to help with that pain. He was arrested and even tried. Wasn't the fact that he was dying enough? Apparently not. If you use the "Wasn't X enough?" argument, then no one should blame Ted Kennedy for what happened at Chappaquiddick. I mean two (count 'em TWO) of his brother's were assassinated. Shouldn't we leave the poor man alone? Hasn't he suffered enough? Yet, there he is, the Republican's favorite target.
Wow, that means we can't pick on Cheney (Heart thing), Bush (He was an alcoholic), Clinton (He had heart surgery), or anyone else. "Was being held hostage not enough?" No. She is now revered in some parts of the Christian community, yet she used the wrong means to do it. They focused on the whole "God" aspect and sort of undercut the use of Crystal Meth. That's not ok. That's like saying, "Jesus is great, if you don't look at his sins." Huh? "Hey, Hitler had a radical way to help Germany...if you forget about his plan to kill all the Jews." If she wasn't a cute, blonde, white girl, this would not be playing out the way it is. Should she go to jail? No. Should she be considered a hero, however? Absolutely not. When the chips are down, she's a tweaker. Plain and simple. If you're supposedly clean, you shouldn't have it in your home. Period. Find me some people in AA who keep alcohol in their home. Seriously. Maybe there are, but those who I know tell me that the temptation would be too great, regardless of how strong your faith is.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Another went all the way back to a previous post from the beginning of September. While the post was a rambling, this person concentrated on a statement I made about hypocritic Christians. Essentially, I believed (and still do) that it is hypocritical for any Chrisitan to say that Christianity has never been as extreme as Islam. This person's response is below:
Leab
I've never prayed to a pee stain. I've never given money to a guy on TV. But I haven't cut the head off of anyone for not being a Christian. yet. Sorry The islamist extremists are extreme. And its not hypocrysy to say so.
A Good Christian
Look, I'm not disagreeing that Islam has extremists. Nor am I saying that these extremists aren't extreme. What I want to get across is that Christians have the same. People pray to a cheese sandwhich that has a Virgin Mary on it. People give money to guys on TV that say, "I'm close with God, and I can get you close too...for $100." The difference is that we only focus on the Islamic extremists now. There are Muslim and Islamic people who aren't blowing people up, but we don't really hear about them.
As for Christianity, have you ever heard of the Inquisition? You need something more current? How about all of Catholicism. You are LITERALLY eating the body of Christ and LITERALLY drinking his blood. Look up transubstantiation. Yet, Jeffrey Dahmer was a monster? How about the Ku Klux Klan burning crosses in the name of God. Wait, how about the fact that the guys who dragged Matthew Shepard on the road were not only against homosexuals, but said God was too, so it's ok.
Every aspect of life has extremes. There are extreme sports fans, extreme political opinions, and extreme aspects of religion. It's a part of life. Christians may not blow up people yet (though hey, McVeigh did, and people might have cheered him if he hadn't killed children), but they will blow up an abortion clinic. Isn't that a little extreme?
Of course, what do I know? I believe Jesus would be great pot-head. I could be wrong.
So, let's get to those comments and mailings. (Remember, names are changed. )
I recently had a post on Ashley Smith and her (former?) drug habit. One astute reader commented by saying:
I remember they were mentioning Ashley Smith's problem with drugs, as though they were in the past in early stories. They also mentioned that she lost custody of her daughter due to her problems, right? So I wasn't all that shocked that she still had some around, but maybe that's just me. Do you think she should be arrested just to balance the scales of justice? Was being held hostage not enough?
Astute Reader
Here's the thing, A.R. It's not about the "balance" of justice. The problem I have is with your last statement. "Was being held hostage not enough?" Here's the thing: I truly feel bad that she was held hostage. Granted, for her trouble she received national attention, the thanks of the author of The Purpose Driven Life, and a big book deal. Now, here's the issue I have (and you may definitely feel free to disagree with me). If Smith had been a black woman, and she had been held hostage by a white man, and she had given him Crystal Meth, the country would have turned on her. It wouldn't have been, "Poor woman." No, they would have gone after her
character for having the drugs. "Was being held hostage not enough?" Let me ask you this: A man in Oregon had terminal cancer and was in a lot of pain. He smoked Marijuana to help with that pain. He was arrested and even tried. Wasn't the fact that he was dying enough? Apparently not. If you use the "Wasn't X enough?" argument, then no one should blame Ted Kennedy for what happened at Chappaquiddick. I mean two (count 'em TWO) of his brother's were assassinated. Shouldn't we leave the poor man alone? Hasn't he suffered enough? Yet, there he is, the Republican's favorite target.Wow, that means we can't pick on Cheney (Heart thing), Bush (He was an alcoholic), Clinton (He had heart surgery), or anyone else. "Was being held hostage not enough?" No. She is now revered in some parts of the Christian community, yet she used the wrong means to do it. They focused on the whole "God" aspect and sort of undercut the use of Crystal Meth. That's not ok. That's like saying, "Jesus is great, if you don't look at his sins." Huh? "Hey, Hitler had a radical way to help Germany...if you forget about his plan to kill all the Jews." If she wasn't a cute, blonde, white girl, this would not be playing out the way it is. Should she go to jail? No. Should she be considered a hero, however? Absolutely not. When the chips are down, she's a tweaker. Plain and simple. If you're supposedly clean, you shouldn't have it in your home. Period. Find me some people in AA who keep alcohol in their home. Seriously. Maybe there are, but those who I know tell me that the temptation would be too great, regardless of how strong your faith is.
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Another went all the way back to a previous post from the beginning of September. While the post was a rambling, this person concentrated on a statement I made about hypocritic Christians. Essentially, I believed (and still do) that it is hypocritical for any Chrisitan to say that Christianity has never been as extreme as Islam. This person's response is below:
Leab
I've never prayed to a pee stain. I've never given money to a guy on TV. But I haven't cut the head off of anyone for not being a Christian. yet. Sorry The islamist extremists are extreme. And its not hypocrysy to say so.
A Good Christian
Look, I'm not disagreeing that Islam has extremists. Nor am I saying that these extremists aren't extreme. What I want to get across is that Christians have the same. People pray to a cheese sandwhich that has a Virgin Mary on it. People give money to guys on TV that say, "I'm close with God, and I can get you close too...for $100." The difference is that we only focus on the Islamic extremists now. There are Muslim and Islamic people who aren't blowing people up, but we don't really hear about them.
As for Christianity, have you ever heard of the Inquisition? You need something more current? How about all of Catholicism. You are LITERALLY eating the body of Christ and LITERALLY drinking his blood. Look up transubstantiation. Yet, Jeffrey Dahmer was a monster? How about the Ku Klux Klan burning crosses in the name of God. Wait, how about the fact that the guys who dragged Matthew Shepard on the road were not only against homosexuals, but said God was too, so it's ok.
Every aspect of life has extremes. There are extreme sports fans, extreme political opinions, and extreme aspects of religion. It's a part of life. Christians may not blow up people yet (though hey, McVeigh did, and people might have cheered him if he hadn't killed children), but they will blow up an abortion clinic. Isn't that a little extreme?
Of course, what do I know? I believe Jesus would be great pot-head. I could be wrong.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Wild Vs. Ducks (10/16/05)
On the heels of their first home loss, the Wild were out for blood. Luckily the unfortunately named Mighty Ducks of Anaheim were in town. Though the Brothers Neidermayer are now playing for the Ducks, the rest of the team doesn't seem to be hustling. J.S. Giguere, once a total brick wall, is now a shell of a goalie. Perhaps they miss Martin Gerber now? Well, let's review the game.
Right off the bat, the Wild came out fast and furious. Almost six minutes in to the period, Brian Rolston slammed home a power play goal. Here's my first question: Why aren't the sports pundits coming out and apologizing to the team for such an underestimation? They have the league's top power play AND penalty kill. How about them apples?
Eight minutes later, on their second power play, Filip Kuba slapped in his first goal of the season off a Chouinard rebound. It's good to see Kuba getting his points. He is one of the longest tenured Wild players.
On the other side of the ice, Manny Fernandez (starting in place of Roloson) was superb. He faced 7 shots in the first period and pushed aside every single one. The highlight of the first period however was not a save or a goal. No, it was Derek Boogaard's two (count 'em: TWO!) fights. The first, with Kip Brennan, came right after a face off. Boogaard was able to whomp on Brennan until Brennan fell to the ice. The crowd exploded with cheers even louder than when the team scored. The Ducks, already down a goal, had their little bit of momentum taken away. Only 9 minutes later, Boogaard dropped the gloves again and started brawling with Todd Fedoruk. This time, the Duck player was able to pull Boogaard's jersey almost clean off,
but showing that Wild enthusiasm and grit, Boogaard kept swinging even though he couldn't see. Fans were shouting directions at Derek. "He's on your left...YOUR LEFT!!!! Swing!!" Because he won both fights (and he really did), the momentum of the game was totally on the Wild's side.
The second period saw things slow down. The Wild got a goal from Bouchard (and Marc Chouinard got his third assist and point of the night) with seven minutes left in the period. Though he only saved five shots, Manny Fernandez was looking impressive and had people murmuring about a shut out (again, an old superstition: Never talk about the shutout. It's bad luck).
The third period was a big period for Manny Fernandez. After facing a combined 12 shots in the first two periods, Manny would face 17 shots in the third period. Once again, the Wild owned the period. Kyle Wanvig made it 4-0 about 4 minutes in to the period. Being that it was a rough day for most Minnesota sports fans (wow, don't those Vikings suck?), many were elated to see at least one team doing well. Others were so happy that they left early (for shame people). Sadly, with only a 14 seconds left, the Ducks were able to get a goal and end the shutout. Still, fans knew what an incredible game he had and gave him a well-deserved standing ovation. When the horn sounded, Minnesota fans saw their beloved Wild down those (Not-so) Mighty Ducks 4-1.
Interesting notes during the game:
The "Let's Play Hockey" moment was done by two players from the Minnesota Swarm. "The what?" you ask. The Minnesota Swarm...You know...The Lacrosse team...Hello? Ok, well, there's a Lacrosse team in this town now...Really.
In-between the first and second period, they had some pee-wee hockey action (by the Little Chippers, no less). One kid had a beautiful breakaway goal that had the crowd really cheering for him. Of course there were other fans screaming for the little tots to hit each other or start fighting. Though there was some (inadvertant) tripping, the game was clean. The best moment, however, came after it was finished. The Wild announcer brought out the kid who hit the breakaway goal. This was the conversation:
Wild Announcer: We have Jimmy, the star of the game, with us. Jimmy what were you thinking when you hit that breakaway goal?
Kid: What?
WA: When you hit that goal. What did you think about that?
K: What are you talking about?
WA: Well, nice playing Jimmy....
One fan astutely said, "Perhaps that wasn't the right kid?" (It turned out it wasn't.)
Another great moment came when the camera man found a fan in a Vikings jersey. Almost immediately the fans started booing. The fan turned bright red and quickly grabbed a hockey stick that read "Minnesota Wild." He then asked the camera guy to zoom in and held the stick up to the camera. Looks like the Vikings are in some hot water up here in the frozen north.
All in all, it was quite an exciting game on a sleepy Sunday evening.
I mentioned shutout superstition earlier. You see, you never talk about the shutout when it's happening. It's like a no-hitter. Halfway through the third period, several fans, including the guy next to me, began talking about how, "Manny's going to get his shutout." NO, NO, NO! You never talk about it. That's a gremlin. Ever see the film Forget Paris? You never say, "Piece of cake." Why? Because it will be anything but. Same with the shutout. "He's got it," said the fan. What happened? Goal! There goes the shutout.
Then again what do I know? I was the guy telling people, "Don't talk about his inevitable shutout." I could be wrong.
4 down, 37 to go.
Right off the bat, the Wild came out fast and furious. Almost six minutes in to the period, Brian Rolston slammed home a power play goal. Here's my first question: Why aren't the sports pundits coming out and apologizing to the team for such an underestimation? They have the league's top power play AND penalty kill. How about them apples?
Eight minutes later, on their second power play, Filip Kuba slapped in his first goal of the season off a Chouinard rebound. It's good to see Kuba getting his points. He is one of the longest tenured Wild players.
On the other side of the ice, Manny Fernandez (starting in place of Roloson) was superb. He faced 7 shots in the first period and pushed aside every single one. The highlight of the first period however was not a save or a goal. No, it was Derek Boogaard's two (count 'em: TWO!) fights. The first, with Kip Brennan, came right after a face off. Boogaard was able to whomp on Brennan until Brennan fell to the ice. The crowd exploded with cheers even louder than when the team scored. The Ducks, already down a goal, had their little bit of momentum taken away. Only 9 minutes later, Boogaard dropped the gloves again and started brawling with Todd Fedoruk. This time, the Duck player was able to pull Boogaard's jersey almost clean off,
but showing that Wild enthusiasm and grit, Boogaard kept swinging even though he couldn't see. Fans were shouting directions at Derek. "He's on your left...YOUR LEFT!!!! Swing!!" Because he won both fights (and he really did), the momentum of the game was totally on the Wild's side. The second period saw things slow down. The Wild got a goal from Bouchard (and Marc Chouinard got his third assist and point of the night) with seven minutes left in the period. Though he only saved five shots, Manny Fernandez was looking impressive and had people murmuring about a shut out (again, an old superstition: Never talk about the shutout. It's bad luck).
The third period was a big period for Manny Fernandez. After facing a combined 12 shots in the first two periods, Manny would face 17 shots in the third period. Once again, the Wild owned the period. Kyle Wanvig made it 4-0 about 4 minutes in to the period. Being that it was a rough day for most Minnesota sports fans (wow, don't those Vikings suck?), many were elated to see at least one team doing well. Others were so happy that they left early (for shame people). Sadly, with only a 14 seconds left, the Ducks were able to get a goal and end the shutout. Still, fans knew what an incredible game he had and gave him a well-deserved standing ovation. When the horn sounded, Minnesota fans saw their beloved Wild down those (Not-so) Mighty Ducks 4-1.
Interesting notes during the game:
The "Let's Play Hockey" moment was done by two players from the Minnesota Swarm. "The what?" you ask. The Minnesota Swarm...You know...The Lacrosse team...Hello? Ok, well, there's a Lacrosse team in this town now...Really.
In-between the first and second period, they had some pee-wee hockey action (by the Little Chippers, no less). One kid had a beautiful breakaway goal that had the crowd really cheering for him. Of course there were other fans screaming for the little tots to hit each other or start fighting. Though there was some (inadvertant) tripping, the game was clean. The best moment, however, came after it was finished. The Wild announcer brought out the kid who hit the breakaway goal. This was the conversation:
Wild Announcer: We have Jimmy, the star of the game, with us. Jimmy what were you thinking when you hit that breakaway goal?
Kid: What?
WA: When you hit that goal. What did you think about that?
K: What are you talking about?
WA: Well, nice playing Jimmy....
One fan astutely said, "Perhaps that wasn't the right kid?" (It turned out it wasn't.)
Another great moment came when the camera man found a fan in a Vikings jersey. Almost immediately the fans started booing. The fan turned bright red and quickly grabbed a hockey stick that read "Minnesota Wild." He then asked the camera guy to zoom in and held the stick up to the camera. Looks like the Vikings are in some hot water up here in the frozen north.
All in all, it was quite an exciting game on a sleepy Sunday evening.
I mentioned shutout superstition earlier. You see, you never talk about the shutout when it's happening. It's like a no-hitter. Halfway through the third period, several fans, including the guy next to me, began talking about how, "Manny's going to get his shutout." NO, NO, NO! You never talk about it. That's a gremlin. Ever see the film Forget Paris? You never say, "Piece of cake." Why? Because it will be anything but. Same with the shutout. "He's got it," said the fan. What happened? Goal! There goes the shutout.
Then again what do I know? I was the guy telling people, "Don't talk about his inevitable shutout." I could be wrong.
4 down, 37 to go.
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